


Parallel Motion

by ioritornero



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:45:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ioritornero/pseuds/ioritornero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slow burn study of how the two most unlikely pair find a common ground, and a way into one another's lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> regarding the timeline, this fic is around the time after when Sync torments Anise with his face/voice.   
> therefore, everyone knows about his identity and yadda yadda

"Dammit..."

This wasn't how things were supposed to happen ― especially _not_ to Sync the Tempest. Apparently the old proverb about taking shortcuts and getting cut short was meant to be taken seriously. He figured he could just pass through the forest and if any monsters attempted to attack him, he could just blast through them; there would be no issue at all. 

But there he was, clambering through the woods with aches, pains, and cuts feeling as deep as the canyon in the Meggoria Highlands. He hadn't lost too much blood, but the fabrics of his clothing continued to stick to the opening of his wounds, staining the material and stinging him. His arm hung limp at his side, his other hand grappling onto it to keep it from swinging around. If another pack of monsters were to come after him at this moment, he would be done for. He supposed he could always jump in a tree if necessary, but he could already feel strips of his skin beginning to break with just wobbling through the forest. 

Sure, he didn't want to live but he was _not_ dying like this.

Not only was he empty on supplies, but there was no way he could even make it to the next town in this condition; he'd have to wait it out. Letting out a heavy sigh, he swung his head upwards so that he could stop staring at the grass beneath his feet. It was only a few more steps before he came to a halt beside a large tree, shade casting over his drenched back ― he couldn't tell it was from the sun glaring at his back or if the pain was finally getting to him. Either way, he fell back against the rugged bark, ignoring the dull affliction to his spine as he hit it and the rough texture scratching against his jacket. 

"Maybe I should have learned to talk to monsters from Arietta..." His breath rippled as he leaned his head onto his shoulder. "Oh well..."

With one arm across his chest, holding onto his other motionless arm, he managed to breathe out a sigh. Shutting his eyes, he wondered if he could manage to fit a power nap in attempt to get his energy back. And he was a light sleeper, so if he heard anything ― _snap_

Typical. His head turned immediately towards the source, his eyes alert and wide within the motion. However, they quickly narrowed at the figure in front of them, recognizing it immediately: that blond idiot he had used the curse slot on a while back. Guy, was it?

"I thought I heard someone over here." He looked down at him cheerfully, his arms holding a large amount of thin sticks that he seemed to be collecting. His friends must have been nearby as well. 

This just wasn't his day. 

Even though he was sure that the man was smart enough to tell that he was not wanted in the least, he only continued to talk, "I was just collecting firewood and ―" There was no use in listening; Sync turned his head sharply away mid-sentence, "― uh..." Guy trailed off, seemingly getting the message.

"I guess this is your chance to get rid of me. I can't do anything in this condition." Sync said flatly, staring at the ground. He'd rather die at the hands of an enemy than a monster, after all.

Had the Tempest still had his sights on Guy, he would have seen the heavy frown that sunk into his lips. Instead, all he heard was the sound of the branches hitting the ground and he could only prepare for the upcoming sound of metal as he pulled the sword from his sheath; since Sync wasn't moving, he'd get a clean cut for sure.

But the strike never came. After moments of still being alive, Sync turned back to Guy, confusion in his green eyes as his mouth hung open slightly.

Guy had kneeled down before Sync, his arm resting on his knee for support. The smile looked as if it hardly tugged away from his lips, his blue-eyed gaze just as sincere. "How about I help you instead?"

Sync could only stare at him in disbelief, blinking as if his _enemy_ wasn't there in front of him, digging into the inside of his jacket in search of some healing material. As his own mouth hung open in awe, Guy only continued to sift through the pockets at the inside of the jacket. "I should have some here ― "

The blond's eyes widened for a moment, shutting them almost immediately as a pitiful laugh escaped his throat. " ― Eh, well...I have less than I thought. But that's fine ―" 

Without even looking back at Sync, his posture began to straighten out, looking off into the distance ― most likely towards where his friends were camping ― as his knees buckled to stand up. "I'm sure either Tear or Natalia wouldn't mind ―"

"No!" 

That outburst had gotten Guy's attention, stopping mid-stand as he looked down at Sync, who had jerked his head so suddenly to look up at the blond that he felt his vision blur. But even he didn't need to clear vision to see the look of sympathy crossing Guy's face. 

"It's...already embarrassing having you here trying to help me." The Tempest felt disgusting. He looked away, gripping his arm even tighter, "I already feel useless as it is ― being this vulnerable right now." He didn't need this man's pity, but saying his honest thoughts out loud didn't make him feel any better. 

"So if you could just leave me alone, I would _really_ appreciate ―" 

Just as he turned his head back slowly towards Guy, the idiot was already back to sitting on the ground and holding a gel in between his fingers only inches away from the boy's mouth. "Open up."

Obviously, there would be no reasoning with him at all. Deciding that any resistance was futile, Sync quickly snatched the gel from his fingers with force; it had been a surprise that it hadn't burst in his fist. Shoving it in his mouth, he winced at the delayed pain of releasing the grip on his other arm, still limp at his side. However, he chewed the gel with no complaints except for the quiet groan of pain that he couldn't help. The sooner he got better, the sooner he could get away from the blond ― who he hoped would just be willing to give him what he needed and be on his way.

"So, is it working at all?" However, that _didn't_ seem to be the case. 

"...Slightly." Had he not been swallowing the medicine, he most likely would have been sighing in defeat. "Why are you helping out your enemy anyway?" It had been said with less distaste than he thought he would have usually said it, and yet, Sync wasn't sure why he was asking the question at all.

"Probably because I'm not a jerk."

Sync couldn't tell if he was trying to be funny, especially with the smile still on his face. His brow cocked, unsure of how to respond to that statement. "...Are you trying to say something?"

"Not at all." Guy dug back into the pocket in his jacket, pulling out a few more gels and holding them in his fist, motioning for Sync to catch them in his hand, "Here, have some more."

Following the cue, Sync took the gels and tossed them all into his mouth, hoping that the action would speed up his recovery. Between chews, he managed to speak coherent sentences. "I'm just saying ― if we were in opposite positions, I probably would have taken you out by now."

"'Probably'? Well, it's good to know you have a merciful side."

Sync rolled his eyes as his head swung in Guy's direction, perching it on his shoulder for comfort. "I've already done worse. Or do you _not_ remember the curse slot?"

Sync couldn't help but feel satisfied knowing that he made the blond's smile falter into neutrality. Guy shifted in his seat, and Sync hoped it was him about to get up and leave. Alas, all he did was throw himself back onto the grass with his arms folded under his head as he stared upwards, making himself quite comfortable where he was.

"Believe me, I haven't. But maybe it's good that you did it. It got everything out in the open." As Sync listened to him, he felt as if this was something that the man had been thinking about for a while. His words only continued and somehow, Sync didn't mind ― at least he wasn't the one who had to do any of the talking. "I had to be honest, for once. And now I don't have to carry the burden alone anymore."

Sync really could have gone without the sentimental talk. It's not as if he cared ― 

"And it's all thanks to you."

Sync couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was ― between the way Guy nodded his head ever so slightly in Sync's direction, the smile returning to his face or the gratitude that the boy was sure he had _never_ heard thrown in his direction ― but, it was enough to make his face burn completely and his eyebrows furrowing against his widening eyes. He was glad that he had turned away in time, because Guy only continued to spout such words: "You've made someone happy, so I don't think that makes you useless at all."

"...I don't need to hear about how I've helped you at all." Sync retaliated quickly, his lips pursing and face twisted in disgust. "Just because you're happy, it doesn't mean I am."

For a few brief moments, the only sound between them was the hushed wind and leaves rustling against the branches. It was the only thing Sync had been thankful for, but the minimal joy had only lasted a few seconds. He tried to concentrate on the ache that was leaving his bones and how the stinging in his wounds had begun to lessen. As Guy began to speak again, he withdrew his hand from his other arm, settling it in the grass at his side and lacing his fingers through the blades.

"Maybe. But look at it like this: you're a replica of the Fon Master, but you aren't forced to carry out that position. You're free to do whatever you want with your life now." Sync could faintly hear him rustling as he moved his position, and somehow he could feel that his eyes were directly on him now, which made him only want to turn his face further away from his. "If you give them a reason to, some people will really like you ― regardless if you're the Fon Master or not."

It was lies. None of that could possibly be true, not in Sync's position. This man had no idea what he was talking about. With his fingers gripping into the ground, soil dirtying the tips of his gloves, he so badly wanted to pull the grass out by the roots and to toss it right into Guy's direction ―

― and yet, all he could do was lean forward and deal with the dull aches that still were present in his joints. As he stumbled to his feet, holding onto the jagged bark of the tree for support, he mumbled out, "I'll be leaving now." 

Sync hadn't bothered to look at Guy's expression at all, or to see if he would stop him. "That's surprising. You mean you aren't going to put up a fight at all?" The slight mocking in the blond's voice was evident, but still Sync stood stubborn and refused to look the man in the face.

Although the gels had done the most they could do, a wave of dizziness still came over Sync as he stood to his feet and clambered away, but it was probably because of how fast he just wanted to get away ― from the lies, the interaction, from _him_. He had barely heard Guy stand to his feet at all, but he could hear the distance only grow between them as he heard him speak. "...Guess not. See you around." 

Even with the short few words, Sync swore he could still hear the slight rise of the corner of his lips. Sync didn't reply with a requited statement, but Guy had probably expected that as well. The only thing Sync could do was cover his face with his hand, the warmth of his cheeks seeping through the material of his gloves ― even if no one else was around to see him in such a state.

Later on, he realized that the only person he was trying to hide this unfamiliar feeling from was himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I see the 'Amazing Guy' isn't doing so amazing."

They had lost all sense of time. Not only was it taking ages to make their way out of the forest, but these monster would just not _quit_. 

"There's too many!" Natalia called out, lashing her arm into the tin at her back to grab at arrows. Although she was hitting each of them with precise accuracy, the boars needed more than one arrow to slay them and her arms could only move so fast. As she shot at another one, successfully piercing through its heart as it slumped to the ground, she barely took notice of the other beast aiming her way at the corner of her eye.

With an instinctive shriek, she quickly tried to ready another arrow before a glyph appeared under the boar's heels, a series of lit of spears slaying through its body right before it could even make contact with her. Glancing over, she noticed it was Tear who had cast the arte, giving her a small nod of gratitude before readying her bow again.

"Luke!" Tear's voice was already hoarse from singing the hymns over and over. "We _need_ to retreat!"

"I'm - quite - aware - of that!" Luke couldn't even say a full sentence before slicing through the monsters. Where did this pack come from anyway? "I'm thinking of something!"

"Let's just split in different directions!" Anise gave her input, pulling the material of Tokunaga's to control his arms as they smashed into the boars. It only really held them off for a little bit, but she probably couldn't cast another arte if she tried. 

"Sounds good to me!" Guy could only fend them off with just his sword now, his other arm holding his abdomen ― he had already taken a few headbutts and even just dodging their attacks had become difficult.

"Fine, then let's do that! They'll probably just get confused and at least we'll only have a few to deal with on our own rather than the whole pack!"

"Unless they all decide to just follow one of us. Now _that_ would be unfortunate."

Luke couldn't even look to Jade or scoff at his comment ― but it did seem as if the old man had his limits too, growing tired after casting arte after arte. That didn't stop with his morbid humour though.

"Okay, is everyone ready?!" With a unanimous agreement, they could finally carry out the plan: "Split!"

And instantly, all six of them had managed to keep from running into one another as they split off into different directions. It had caught the monsters by surprise, but it didn't last long, as they pack itself divided and followed after each other of them.

―――――――――――――――

Guy's infamous agility would be no help here. Every step he took weighed down on him, making the soles of his feet feel as if they were about to burst. He couldn't even say for sure if he had broken anything, but his ribs and joints continued to crack at every paralleling step. The worst part was when he had to jump over any obstacle in the way, whether it was a low branch or a large bush. If the boar behind him didn't kill him, he'd probably die of exhaustion instead.

He tried to keep himself from looking behind him, knowing that usually took a turn for the worse but he _needed_ to see what exactly was chasing him. He quickly tore his view to look behind him, only spotting one of the large beasts galloping after him. That gave him some comfort ―

― until his foot was caught under the root of a tree, causing the poor blond to fall face down into the grass. Of course, a clearing in the forest was just steps ahead. Guy didn't have any time to yell in pain as his bones crushed against the ground, sharply returning his sight to the monster coming up behind him. He felt around for his sword but kept his eyes on monster. No matter how much he stretched his hand ― not here, or here ― his sword wasn't in reach. It must have flung out of his hand as he fell ―

And now this was the end. 

He didn't have anymore energy to try and fight this thing off with brute force. Clenching his fists, he tried to shut his eyes so that he wouldn't have to witness his last moments of living being torn apart by some monster.

'Is this really how it's going to end for me?'

"Thunder Blade!" 

Flashes of light weakened Guy's eyesight briefly, closing them enough so that it hadn't blinded him completely, but still wide enough that he could see the monster's body take several shining blades right through its skin. Within seconds, it was torn apart and laid lifelessly on the ground. 

Guy let out what sounded to be a gasp as his body trembled. He was just moments away from being that thing's meal and now it was barely recognized as the monster it was. Swallowing hard, he realized he now had something else to worry about: 'That voice...'

He tore his eyes away from the torn body of the monster behind him to the figure standing only a few feet in front of him. His neck ached as he immediately caught sight of the boots perched nonchalantly on the ground, moving his eyes upward as he instantly recognized the person. "S-Sync...?"

The Tempest looked down at him with anything but pity. With his arms latched across his chest, his lips twisted smugly in his direction and he didn't even need to say a word of judgement, for his eyes were doing the job perfectly. Unlike their last encounter, the harsh words seemed to drip from Sync's lips with ease. "I see the 'Amazing Guy' isn't doing so amazing." 

Had he just come to taunt him? Even if Guy hadn't considered it a mistake to give the boy a helping hand the last time he had seen him, Sync had proved that he didn't share the same values. They weren't alike. The blond could forgive and forget and all of that, but that didn't mean that Sync could. He was still an enemy.

Guy's eyebrows furrowed against his eyelids, taking his view off of Sync and towards his sword instead, which had been flung inches out of his reach. "If it's a fight you want ―" His arm had already been outstretched from the fall, but if he could just stretch a bit further, the hilt of the blade would be in his hand. "― I won't let this injury get in the way."

And he didn't; even as his muscles burned beneath his skin or as his joints cracked, he continued to reach for it. But as finger barely brushed against the metal, Sync's foot stomped sharply against the dull side of the blade ― he wouldn't allow for the blond to get a hold of it. A wave of horror washed over Guy again as he swore his heart skipped a beat. Did Sync hate him that much that he wouldn't even allow him to defend himself? Without much thought, he swallowed any of his fear, yet he stayed cautious as he forced himself to look up at Sync's face again.

The mocking expression had vanished, replaced with something more neutral as his lips fell straight. "I'm not here for a fight." His eyes remained amused though, as if the idea of Guy trying to fight in this state wouldn't be anything more than a joke. "And even if I was, it wouldn't be fair. I'd rather have a challenge."

Guy hadn't even been aware he was holding his breath until a sigh of relief fell from his lips. 'Then why is he here?' The blond had been proof that people could change, and he had seen enough people in his life do the same, but Sync? Not that he doubted that the replica could turn over a new leaf, but the chances of him doing that since their last meeting had been slim. Even then, Sync said he would have taken Guy out at a chance like this.

But then again, what if he had changed? Guy slowly tugged his hand back as his expression softened as well. "You've...definitely become a lot more merciful. Did our little talk from last time change your mind?"

Maybe that hadn't been the best thing to say. Guy could visibly see the boy's face twitch in fury, but hadn't seemed to notice as his foot stepped off the blade and instead dug his heel deeply into the blond's receding hand. 

Guy groaned breathlessly, taken by complete surprise; any pain the man had been familiar with up until now was replaced with the stinging in his hand as his fingers instinctively dug into the grass beneath him to keep himself stable. His body couldn't take anymore of this. Sweat dripped down his brow as his nerves trembled, wondering what was so bad about what he had said. Was he always this easily angered? 

Amusement hadn't returned to Sync's features, looking down at Guy with general distaste. It didn't even seem as if he was getting any joy out of hurting him either. "Nothing about me has changed. You really aren't in the position to be underestimating me."

Oh, Guy hadn't been underestimating him at all ― he was more than aware of the damage he could do and had already done. Trying to keep his breath steady, he attempted to speak out a coherent sentence. "Is there _really_ no other way for you to take your anger out on others than by hurting them?"

Honestly, Guy expected to get his skull kicked in for that one, but all he heard was a bellowing laugh from above him. "All I _know_ is violence and anger. What else do you expect from a replica without a purpose?"

At this point, Guy wondered why he hadn't shut his mouth yet. However, the words of retaliation didn't seem to be stopping. "...Then maybe...you should try finding one."

Sync scoffed and even if Guy wasn't looking at him, he could practically hear his eyes roll. "Easy for you to say."

Wait, what? Guy's brow rose, his eyes narrowing at him inquisitively. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Have you already forgotten your past?" Sync started, and Guy had already taken note of how the weight on his hand was beginning to lessen, but still on tight enough to keep him defenseless and stationary. " _I_ controlled you: I knew all about your old plan to make the Fabre household suffer."

That hadn't entirely been a secret as of lately, and yet it still caused Guy to wince ― hearing it out loud wasn't something he wasn’t used to yet. "...Then you should also know that I changed."

"I'm not here to listen to you try to convince yourself of that," Guy wanted to bite back with 'Then _why_ are you here?' but decided it wouldn't be best in his position, "but I _do_ know that the other replica helped you come to that decision."

The image of Luke rippled through his mind as he pursed his lips. All of that was behind him now. He had become friends with that 'other replica' now ― hell, he had practically raised him. Any venom that had to do with the Fabre household was no longer towards Luke in the slightest. His innocence had been like a beacon of light, deterring him from the path of revenge that had harbored in his heart for years ― it had been his way of life. 

And somehow, like a reflection, Guy managed to see that in Sync as well. "He did. Maybe...you should find someone to help you too."

Without missing a beat, Sync brushed off the advice as he scoffed again. "Yeah, right." His vision tore away from Guy's pitiful figure, removing his foot off of his hand completely at the same time. 

Guy waited moments before moving again, keeping his eyes on Sync. After realizing that the boy didn't seem to have any interest in asking him anything else as he continued to stare off into the distance, the blond attempted to sit up. With his palms planted on the ground and legs folding over to straighten up, he voiced the question that ran through his mind. "...Can't the other God-Generals help you?"

Sync shook his head in disbelief, like Guy had just brought up the most ludicrous idea he ever heard. "We aren't friends, unlike your little group." 

A pang of guilt shot through him, freezing as he continued to stay kneeled in front of him. His vision focused on Sync's features, another torrent of pity hitting him as he realized the expression on the boy's face wasn't longing or sadness, but rather acceptance. He never expected anything more from anyone. No one really did care for him. Despite being comrades, even those close to him obviously weren't showing enough interest in the boy's problems. _Of course_ anger was all that he knew, and that was because ―

" ― You... really don't have anyone, do you?" The words came out limp and coated in empathy. Guy could feel his expression faltering as his eyebrows creased and the corners of his lips fell. 

The words had caught Sync's attention; although any interest that peaked into his eyes immediately disappeared as he caught sight of Guy's face. He rolled his eyes once more. "What's with that look?"

"It just makes so much sense now. You haven't found anyone willing to be by your side."

Guy continued to stare up at him, even as the boy looked away so harshly to keep his face hidden. He wondered briefly if he just couldn't handle conversations like this, but the pink dusting his cheeks was enough to give away how he clearly felt. Still, Guy didn't feel the need to mention it. "It...really doesn't matter," Sync muttered out.

"But it _does_." Guy propped himself up with his hand, resting his other on his knee to keep him comfortable. "It's fine if you have yourself figured out, but if no one is there for you then...it's a lot harder." It really was all making so much sense now. How had he not seen it before? "I...can understand why you feel so lost." 

'I know _exactly_ how it feels.' Even if Luke had helped Guy without intending to, all those years of hating others, even himself, would have taken a toll off of him if someone had been there to understand exactly what he had been going through. Had his desire for revenge not been so strong, he was convinced he too would have attempted to end his life on his own terms.

"What you want is revenge and I... _completely_ understand that. But that can't be your entire purpose. It just eats you alive and you don't allow any happiness into your life." Even now, he wished he had an outlet for these emotions that he had been holding onto for years and was still continuing to gather. It was as if everything he wanted to say to himself was finally coming out and he finally had the chance to say it out loud.

As he spoke, he slowly began looking to the ground. It was as if he wasn't even talking to Sync anymore. "Actually...It's better to just forget revenge altogether. You'll never reach your full potential if you ―"

"Enough!"

Guy's eyes widened promptly in confusion as he snapped out of his rambling. He glanced up to Sync again, watching as the Tempest was finally looking at him in the eyes but still attempting to cover his flushed cheeks with his gloved hands. "I'll help you! Just...stop."

The boy nervously began shuffling through his pockets, pulling out a handful of gels in his fists. He motioned for Guy to open up his own hand, who continued to blink in confusion as to what was going on exactly. Nonetheless, he quickly opened his own palm, scrambling to making sure he caught all of the gels in his hand to keep them from falling on the ground. Before even thinking of eating them, he glanced back up to Sync. 'Maybe he just isn't interested...'

There wasn't much else Guy could do. With a small sigh, he pressed his hand off the ground so that he could get to his feet ― but the excruciating pain seething through his abdomen only came as a reminder of why he needed these gels in the first place. The blond groaned in pain again, following it with sharp intakes of breath to try and ease the aches as he fell back down to his knees. He tried his hardest to cope with the pain by clenching his fists, but tried to be careful enough not to pop all of the gels in his hands. 

"Hey, do you ―" Guy forced himself to look up, slightly curious as to what Sync would have to ask him right now, "― need some help?" 

With his vision clearing from the pain diminishing, he saw the clear view of the God-General, his enemy, holding his hand out in front of him. His arms weren't arched lazily like they could have been; it was Sync, after all. Instead, his fingers were outstretched and his wrist was held at the perfect angle to match Guy's needs. The only thing that stayed the same was his expression, still clearly embarrassed.  
.  
'Or maybe...' Guy hadn't even noticed that his mouth was open in awe, his lips meeting together again in a smile as he gave a small nod. His free hand pushed off from the ground again, but only aiming towards Sync's hand this time. 

It must have been an odd scene. "You know ―" 

"Guy! Are you over here?" 

The voice was clear and as soon as it was heard, Guy swung his head behind him. "Luke?" He asked, although he thought for sure it was who he was hearing. He was proven right, seeing the redhead push through several bushes not far behind him. "Luke!" He called out again, this time catching Luke's attention and giving him a clear indication of where Guy was. Now that he knew his location, he could get back to ―

"Sync...?" All that was left in front of him was the view of the clearing, the Tempest nowhere in sight. 

"Hey!" The shoulder on his hand brought him out of his trance, looking back behind him to see Luke standing above him looking just as beaten and battered. At least he could stand on his own. "Are you okay?"

Before responding, Guy looked back into the clearing, squinting to get a better view as he scanned the surroundings. "...Yeah." Sync was nowhere to be found. "...I just need to take these gels is all."

"Oh okay. Did you need some help up?" Even at the request, the redhead couldn't help but hook his arms under Guy's, pulling the man up so that he wouldn't have strain himself. "And if you need some more gels, I have some too."

"Right..." He tried to fit as many of them as he could into his mouth. Now that the adrenaline wasn't pumping through his veins, he wasn't sure if he could even make it with walking. If not...he'd give it his best shot anyway.

"Okay, then let's try and find everyone else." Luke had already turned in the other direction, looking around the area intently as he tried to spot out the rest of the group. Guy shrugged off the general ache in his body; the gels would be kicking it at any moment. Facing the same direction as Luke, he decided to let him lead the way. But before he even took the first step towards him, his head twisted back. Maybe if he looked one more time ―

But Sync must have been long gone by now. Sighing, he only wish he had gotten the chance to tell him what he had been meaning to say all along. 

'You know, if you needed a friend...I'll be here.'

"Guy, come on!"

"I'm right behind you!" He called out, turning his view back towards Luke, following after him.

―――――――――――――――

Just barely out of view from the clearing, Sync stood behind the trunk of a tree. He didn't have enough time to sneak into the branches, but thankfully he was thin enough to fit behind this one. As he heard the two exchange words ― ones that he couldn't comprehend from the distance that was growing between them ― he cautiously peeked his head out to see the two of them were already out of view and gone. 


	3. Chapter 3

Something was definitely wrong with him, that he knew.

"Sync!"

Was it just him or were these training sessions becoming more and more of a burden? Before he could handle them with ease; fluidly dodging all of the artes Van was throwing or taking on teams of trainees to go up against him -- none of it was an issue. But now? Van was barely hitting him with half the amount of artes he usually casted and each of them were coming closer and closer to hitting him. He didn't know whether to be insulted or not. Even with their goal finally shedding into reality, the idea of Van going easy on him was just absurd.

Sync wasn't that out of it, right? There was no way anyone could possibly be able to tell. He himself may have known something was constantly tugging at his mind, but it was worse when other people were starting to clue in.

" _Sync_!"

And he swore if Van called out his name in that tone _one more time_ , he would --

Van went from being quite the distance away from him to being completely in his face, the blade of his sword piercing throwing the wall right at Sync's head, only a few inches from his cheek. Had he not been focused on staring down his commadant directly, he may have checked the ground to see if some strands of his hair had been cut off and fallen to the floor. Sync couldn't keep his eyes on him for too long though. He didn't want to seem like he was admitting defeat but Van was giving him that look: the look that said he knew and he didn't like knowing.

"This is unusual for you. You're usually the most levelheaded during these sessions." The man's brows dove ever so slightly to his eyelids, his grimace becoming more prevalent as his eyes narrowed towards Sync. He tried his hardest not to look back at Van, but his voice echoed that he needed his attention.

"I'm just...distracted."

Sync hoped that answer would have sufficed, that he could just be dismissed from training and he could just go back to his room and continue to question his sanity, something he had grown accustom to in the last few weeks.

"...We can't afford for you to have distractions." Van's voice was calm, although his sternness was still oddly evident. "Whatever the problem is, I expect you to solve it quickly. You need to focus on your goal. Nothing else matters."

―――――――――――――――

' _I know that._ ' 

Wind whipped past Sync's ears; it was better than the silence he expected.

He couldn't take his eyes off the clearing in front of him, although it wasn't as if he was staring at anything in particular. The memory from days ago played again and again in his mind. Even with the commotion of daily life in Daath, he couldn't seem to clear his mind and now here he was, past any kind of walking distance towards the city. 

The forest was just as crowded; focusing on ridding the monsters in the area weren't even keeping him preoccupied. If anything, just hearing them come up behind him was enough to unleash the bottled rage inside of him. He'd cast his most powerful artes on even the weakest predators, feeling nothing but a hazy flash of his anger and a lingering moment of exhaustion as the mass of their bodies vanished before him.

And now he was out of it, just staring out at the gray sky shading over the small patch of grassy plains that he stood on and stretched out before him. The only thought occurring in his mind other than the training session was that it had to be a cliff he was on; any land he assumed he could make out past the bulbous clouds seemed to be nothing more than meager, blocky silhouettes in the distance.

Not even the chill prickling at his skin was enough to stir a reaction out of him. 

As much as he wished he could forget the tone of Van's words and could just apply them as easily as he said them, it was better than the previous memories that had been invading his mind for weeks now. Any day that he could go an hour without those images leaking into his mind was a milestone for him.

' _And yet--_ '

He clenched his jaw tight. 

"Sync?"

And immediately, his mouth opened and his eyes widened and all he wanted from himself now was to _not_ turn around, to just ignore the voice like he had heard nothing at all.

(His mind had betrayed him at this point, so where was the surprise when his body did the same?)

"Hey, it's been a while. You seem to be doing okay--"

Unlike the monsters, there was no warmth bubbling inside of him at the sight of the blonde. Without any action, he swallowed any kind of response his body threatened to start and the only physical reaction he could feel was his pulsing heartbeat. Why couldn't that plummet with the rest of his emotions?

Guy was there and it was like he had never left. His voice was just as clear in Sync's head as it was spoken to him. 

' _Stop._ '

Why was he still talking to him? How could he keep his lips moving so casually around him? 

They weren't friends. They weren't allies. They weren't _anything_. 

Nothing needed to be changed. 

"-- starting to become a habit of ours, isn't it?"

A bad habit. One that he needed to end right here, right now. 

" -- not following you, I swear --"

("Whatever the problem is, I expect you to solve it quickly.")

And his body betrayed him for the better this time, and a familiar heat burned inside of him, one that he had felt countless times today as he watched monsters disappear --

"--It's funny how--"

That smile. That _infuriating_ smile.

("You need to focus on your goal. Nothing else matters.")

A pool of light shined at his feet and he had never recited an arte so fast--

' _I don't need to be saved._ '

And he watched as the beam of light shot directly towards the swordsman, catching him by surprise as he barely dodged the attack by side stepping away from it. A small cloud of dust and dirt rose from the ground, revealing that the spot had sunk a shallow hole into the plain and was now rid of any grass from where the arte had hit. And he saw Guy stare at him in disbelief and all traces of that smile was gone. Sync had never regretted missing aim as much as that one.

Guy's demeanor was no longer calm and inviting, like it should have been in the first place. His body was tense -- even so, his hand didn't reach towards the hilt of his sword and his eyes didn't mirror Van's, whose face was still fresh in Sync's mind.

He'd make him regret by not responding faster.

"Sync?! I thought you--"

Sync casted another arte before he could finish the sentence, leaving his stance and lashing straight at Guy to follow up the attack with just his fists, even when the blonde quickly dodged the arte again. Instead of colliding with flesh, his arms felt nothing but the blunt pain of hitting against the dull side of his sword, which he had managed to pull out just as he avoided the previous attack. 

' _Finally._ ' Sync thought to himself. 

He could tell with the way Guy attempted to open his mouth to speak that he just wanted to 'talk it out' or whatever excuse he could find to keep Sync from continuing. But Sync only maneuvered around his body, aiming for his face as he went to punch him, but hit his shoulder instead. He barely noticed the burning on his knuckles. The highlights of Guy's blade caught the corner of Sync's eyes and all he wanted was to see that blade pointed in his direction. But even when he hit him, Guy didn't push him away. He hopped a few steps from him, but he was still within Sync's reach. He waited for him to finally turn his blade around but it never came. 

Any other time, he wouldn't have cared if his opponent focused on defense; it was for their sake, not his. But the fact that Guy, his enemy, had the audacity to think that there was anything between them other than hate only made him fume. 

Sync aimed for him _again_ , he missed _again_ , and he hit the sword **_again_**.

He jumped back, casting artes that required no delay. Each time Guy managed to avoid them, he'd try to cast another one as soon as he moved to a different spot. He would try and predict where the blonde was going next but the ground reacted just as it did previously, lifting dirt and dust from the ground until it slightly clouded his vision. His ears were beginning to ring and he could tell he was losing feeling in his finger tips. It hadn't mattered though; he abandoned any thought that he needed to conserve himself and just kept going, sending out arte after arte. 

The sporadic droplets that hit his face almost brought him back to reality, just almost.

At this point, the blonde had two options: to retreat or to fight. Sync was mildly satisfied when he saw his figure from the clouds coming towards him --

and yet, he was still on the defense.

As much as Sync relished in the sight of him getting closer -- for all murderous purposes -- he stepped back. Just as his feet hit the ground, he went to cast another arte --

until his body suddenly becomes weightless and he felt an even greater knot in his stomach. His mouth was stuck open midway and for the first time in a while, his body relaxed. But when he felt the ground crumble beneath his feet and realized he was falling, and the memories of the core come into his mind and how much he wanted it before --

' _I never got the chance to--_ '

Guy's face became a swift blur to his vision, and yet it was still vivid in his memory. He wondered if he was smiling as he watched him fall. He wondered why he attacked him so quickly; he was the one who made that smile disappear, and _why hadn't he just let it linger_ \--

He wonders why he didn't just _try_. The last thing he'd see is his own arm outstretched in front of him and just that bobbing blonde head running towards him --

And in seconds, he didn't just see the clouds and Guy's hair over the cliff, instead he sees him dart towards him and as he leans over the cliff and grabs his forearm, Sync's arm is pulled sharply from the air. It all happens so fast; Guy's sword in the ground to keep him stable as he leaned forward, pulling Sync from the falling rocks and air beneath his feet to against the swordsman's chest all in one swift motion. And as he went to pull his sword from the collapsing ground, he kept his other arm firm and tight around Sync's back to ensure that the boy would stay close. 

None of it registered into Sync's mind until a few moments later, stepping with Guy as he was pulled back to stability and allowed himself to be kept close to the swordsman. It all came into a series of realizations; how he was pressed tightly against the man, how he gripped the fabric of his shirt tightly with his hand, and how the familiar phrase of ' _I was almost dead_ ' comes into his mind, but with an unfamiliar detest. 

The sound of their erratic breathing and the rain pattering against them comes last. 

Sync wasn't aware there had been silence between the two of them until Guy finally broke it. "I've… never seen you fight like that before…"

Sync hears it, how he was clearly masking any signs of being shaken up. But it's not a thought that stays long. He leaned his forehead against Guy's chest and he could barely muster up the strength to look up. His eyes were wide and it wasn't until he thought of Guy's voice that he realized that he was visibly trembling against the man.

He thinks to the core again and realizes this time was nothing like that. 

' _This time, I finally --_ '

The image of Guy leaving his view as he fell flashed in his mind, again and again. 

' _\-- know what I want._ ' 

As he clutched Guy's shirt tighter, the thunder rolled in and the pattering on their backs only became more harsh. The sounds didn't startle him, but his eyes widened and then relaxed as suddenly felt awakened. His head became heavy as the rain hit it and slowly drenched his hair and the droplets rolled down his neck.

Sync could feel the man shift against him, unable to see the way he looked up at the sky with the rain hitting his face until he looks back down at the one in his firm hold. "Sync?" 

Guy's voice was quiet but it was enough to evoke Sync back to reality. He tilt his head up slowly and it had just occurred to him that his vision was a blur when he tried to look at Guy. The droplets hit his face, running over his skin and over his eyelashes. He assumed it had to be the rain, but was somehow content with the possibility that it was not. 

He blinks and the sight of Guy becomes more clear, the blonde's brows turned downward and his lips pursed in obvious concern. Sync felt like he was so use to seeing the smile that seeing his eyes like this, so emphatic and heartfelt, that he almost feels a tinge of guilt. 

"Sync… What's wron--""

And Sync undid his hold from the man's shirt, pushing himself away from his grasp and running straight behind him, back into the forest. He wonders if he'll run after him, but he sincerely hopes he doesn't. 

He needed more time. 

But it had been minutes among minutes, and still Guy was nowhere to be seen behind him. If he had ran after him, he couldn't keep up. He hadn't called for him either, but there was always the chance that the thunder and sound of rain distorted it. But there was also a chance that he made no attempt to follow him.

Sync was fine with that. That's what he had to keep telling himself, even when he stopped at a tree to catch his breath and his finger tips were finally beginning to harvest feeling again as he held onto the bark. But as he looked over his shoulder with caution and saw no traces of of the swordsman behind him, he realized he didn't hate himself as much for hoping to see him than he did as he waited more than a few seconds to give him time to show up.


	4. Chapter 4

It was still raining.

Guy huffed a quiet sigh from his nostrils, turning his tired eyes from the ceiling to the window. It wasn't the rain that was keeping him up; he'd fallen asleep to the familiar sound pattering against the windows and metal exterior of the Albiore all week. And now he was in the perfect position for sleeping; inside the warm inn, tucked away under the layers of soft sheets, and the rain gently pouring against the building. But he couldn't seem to get his mind to settle, new thoughts tugging at his head every time he shut his eyes. He groaned, shutting his eyes tighter and focused his mind on the sound of the rain, hoping it would eventually lull him to sleep.

But the sounds only made recalling that evening effortless.

When there was no speaking, no rustling of footsteps, and just the sound of rain taking over all silence, all he could think of was how he was left in the storm days before — that encounter could not be easily forgotten. He remembered how Sync had tore away from him and left into the forest, leaving him to spin around and take one instinctive step towards him before halting altogether. What would running after him have helped? It wasn't as if they were friends or allies; Sync had made that clear for the both of them.

But they weren't enemies either.

Guy thought of the word to describe them the whole way back to his own group, looking at their bewildered faces as to why he hadn't come back as soon as the storm began. He had even pictured Sync sitting with them, and wondered how those conversations would play out. It was an odd image, but somehow believable. Even then, Guy couldn't find the right term for their relationship — if they even had one.

He glanced at the clock, begrudgingly noticing how many minutes he had spent on his restless thoughts. He ran his hand through his hair, his palm resting on his forehead as he sighed again. He sat up and slid his feet off of the bed and onto the floor, keeping his eyes on the curtains hovering in front of the window. Daath was a busy town; the roads were bound to be lit with dim lights and maybe a walk would do him good.

Maybe going out into the storm would keep his mood from going foul, he thought to himself as he slipped on his boots, grabbing an umbrella before leaving the inn.

__________________________________  
  


It was just as he imagined, just not as busy. As large as Daath was, the city was relevantly silent at night. A few faces of uniformed workers hurried past him throughout the wet walkways. He barely made eye contact with them, but whenever they walked past, he would follow their silhouette with his eyes until he found another one in front of him. He tried to keep himself from being too obvious about his staring, but it seemed to be the only thing that would temporarily keep thoughts of the night before from invading his mind.

It wasn't that Guy was necessarily trying to push the thoughts out of his mind, but ever since their first encounter (or rather, the first encounter where Sync had been too weak to actually attack him), thoughts of Sync that hadn't been about fighting would burst into his mind more often that he cared to admit.

Even now, the swordsman couldn't think of a word for what they were, or even how he felt about him.

H'd barely noticed that his eyes had fallen to the ground, entranced by the streaks of light on the cracks of the street. He shook his head off as if that would deter his mind from going elsewhere and for a moment he was sure that he could probably head back now — he'd just have to wait until he passed out from exhaustion.

Until he glanced up, and his heart dropped as soon as he saw the familiar patch of green hair.

Under one of the many patios of the streets, pass the layer of water dripping over the wood and metal pillars, Sync was seated on a bench, his head tilted down. He obviously hadn't recognized Guy, considering he hadn't run away yet, the man thought to himself humorously. Guy stood still and wondered if he should approach him, because as much as he joked to himself, he knew that was what probably would end up happening. Sync didn't want them to get close, that much he could tell.

And yet he couldn't stop himself from wondering why they couldn't put it behind them.

Guy stepped foot in his direction, pausing, and telling himself if Sync didn't want him around now after this, he wouldn't try again. They would just stay enemies that stood for different causes.

And then he continued.

Guy stood next to Sync, who still hadn't looked up at him until he was standing almost directly beside him. Before Guy could call out his name, the boy looked up at him, face flushed and noticeable startled. His mouth hung open for a moment before he finally said something.

"Guy."

His voice came out meek and it was then Guy noticed how soaked he was. What was he doing out there this time of night? Not that Guy was one to talk, but at least he had an umbrella.

"What are you doing out here?" It wasn't like him to skip the formalities, but Guy asked anyway.

Sync shifted in his seat, looking away from him and back at his clutched hands sitting in his lap. "I… wasn't feeling well so I wanted to see if I could get some medicine. But I guess even Daath doesn't always have the market open."

Guy could hear a croak in his voice, noticing another trait of Sync's illness. He didn't notice that he was smiling already, although he could hear it in his tone as he rested a hand on his hip. "I don't think walking in the rain really helps."

He expected a glare and for him to say something smug and then walk away; it seemed the only direction it could go in. But Sync looked at him, his face tired and oddly enough, at ease. But then he turned away again, this time looking straight ahead and Guy could still see his features as he spoke, "I don't think so either…It's probably why I'm like this."

Guy wanted to ask why he would be walking around in the rain again, but then he remembered the previous evening that was stuck in his mind. If Sync was already tolerating Guy's presence, he didn't want to bring it up and ruin that. It wasn't his place, he thought. "…You know, there are perks to traveling with healers." He started, gathering Sync's attention, even if it was from just a side glance. "I've learned how to make some decent medicines. I've even used a few of them myself and they seem to work."

Sync looked up at him, as if expecting him to continue.

"...I could tell you the recipe, if you'd like? The ingredients are actually very common."

Sync looked away again, still silent. Guy wondered if he had assumed the best too soon and that he'd ultimately get rejected again. It wouldn't be a farfetched scenario at all. But as the sound of rain filled the void between them, Sync had grabbed the man's attention again when he answered. "The mess hall is closed this time at night, but I can get us in."

"O-Oh? I wasn't expecting…" Guy trailed off, and Sync clearly sensed his disturbed tone, as his pale face brimmed with pink. Even Guy wished he hadn't reacted like it was an inconvenience, but he had to admit that he was caught off guard.

"If you don't want to, that is—" Even though he spoke faster, his tone high pitched and rushed, Guy managed to interrupt Sync.

"N-no, it's not that. I just…suppose we should go now then, since it's so late."

Sync glanced at him, his eyes perked open ever so slightly and for a moment, Guy thought that he could actually see some of resemblance with Ion, although he wouldn't admit it. Thinking that in itself felt wrong though; even when he first saw his face, he could instantly recognize the Fon Master's features, but he could never think of comparing their identities, even when he had come to an early conclusion that Sync was a replica, especially when he found out with Luke.

He couldn't compare Sync to either of them and so when he saw his expression like that, even when he had seen that same doe-eyed look on Ion's face every day, it was oddly satisfying.

And as the quick image of what it might look like if he ever saw him with that same smile in the future, he couldn't help but smile as well. "...What do you say?"

"Oh—" Guy hadn't even noticed Sync was staring at him until he saw his eyes tear away from him, clearly breaking out of the trance. "Yeah, I… I suppose we should." Sync stood from his seat quckly, setting off a series of looks towards the rainy streets, to the umbrella, to Guy, back to the street. As he took a step forward, coming out from under the small patio, he seemed to freeze as Guy followed him, tilting the umbrella over his already soaked self.

"You…you don't have to do that."

"Why wouldn't I though?" Guy had stopped behind him before taking a step closer, standing at his side and tilting the umbrella towards Sync. He could already feel small drops hitting his shoulder. "You're already drenched. I'm not going to let you walk around in the rain and have you feel even worse later."

Sync was silent, staring forward and taking a small step to the side, but noticed how Guy still shifted the umbrella so that he was completely safe from the rain.

" _Or_ if you're too embarrassed to share an umbrella, you can just hold it."

"I'm not embarrassed!" He sputtered out, shooting Guy a frustrated look. Guy knew he had seen that glare before, but something about it was different, more playful; he could almost feel his smile widening just by seeing it.  
  
"…Do whatever you want. I don't care." He started walking again without warning, causing Guy to quickly catch up with his pace again to keep the umbrella over his head.

__________________________________

  
Getting into the mess hall hadn't been a hassle and getting into the kitchen was even less of a problem. Guy assumed that the perks of being a God-General meant he could travel through any part of the cathedral at his own time, but there had been almost no one around to even ask what their intentions were as they scouted the hallways. Guy carried the umbrella at his side and tried his best to shake off all of the water when they first walked in, but droplets still leaked off the tip at every other step.

Sync lead him into the kitchen, stopping at the doorway. "Get whatever you need. I'll keep watch."

Guy looked around with a sense of urgency, asking him where they kept certain kinds of ingredients every now and then. He'd answer, whether he knew or not, and the blond would continue rummaging throughout the cabinets. He kept his voice low and his sentences short whenever he spoke, feeling as if he needed to make this quick for the faint feeling that he wasn't allowed in this spot of the headquarters.

At some point, when it had been a minute or more without them talking, Guy instinctively glanced behind him, catching a quick view of Sync looking directly at him. Once he did though, the boy sharply turned his head back out towards the door way. It wasn't until then that Guy wondered if he had really looked this feverish the whole time; with the bright lights of the kitchen, he could see that his cheeks were just as red as they were when they were outside, if not more.

Or maybe his suspicions were right and Sync was just embarrassed that he had been caught, which Guy cheerily mused at before turning back towards the jar of ingredients in front of him, mashing them into a thin paste.

__________________________________

  
It hadn't been Guy's intention to follow Sync back to his room, and yet they seemed to be stuck in that situation. Once he had let Sync know that he had found all of the ingredients and was able to create the remedy, Sync had just told him to 'come on' and began leading the way towards the barracks. Neither of them said a word about this and Guy wondered if Sync hadn't even thought about that himself and was just unsure of how to reject the swordsman at this point. He wouldn't put it past him.

And just like that, Sync spoke up for the first time in minutes. "…I can just take it. I know it's getting late so you…you don't need to walk me to my room."

That was true: it _was_ late.  
  
And Guy _could_ have just given it to him.  
  
And he didn't _need_ to walk him to his room.

But he still followed him, staring at his back, studying the soaked folds in his clothing. "No, it's fine. I want to make sure you take it correctly."

He expected Sync to argue, but it never came. Instead, he kept quiet and continued to lead him down the hallway, stopping in front of a door near the end of it. Guy watched his hands, noticing how he hadn't pulled out a key and instead just turned the handle to open the door. If this was his room, why wasn't there some sort of a lock on it?

Sync walked in, not taking much notice to Guy as he followed in behind him as Sync flicked on the lamp. He quickly examined the room, finding nothing that showed evidence of hobbies or even personalization. It looked like the countless, one-look-fit-all rooms he had stayed in at inns for the last few years. It definitely was spacious, even a few extra rooms that he assumed were the wash room and the closet, but other than that, it was just a room.

He closed the door behind him and watched as Sync turned towards him, their gazes failing to meet. He briefly wondered how many people had been in here before him as well.

It wasn't Guy's place to comment on the lack of decorations, but he still felt the need to say something. "Is this your room?" Sync nodded. "It looks comfy."

"It's purpose is just for me to sleep, really. Even then, I'm almost never here." Guy noticed how Sync's hunched shoulders relaxed.

Guy felt as if it would be common to ask _why_ but he knew the answer. Calculating a scheme while trying to take out those who opposed it would definitely take a hit to anyone's free time to be spent at home — even if this was the last thing he thought of when that word came up.

He must have been dwelling on those thoughts in silence because Sync spoke up again, "So…what's the correct way to take this thing?" He stepped closer, glancing at the jar in Guy's hands.

Guy perked up. "Oh, yeah!" He set the umbrella against the wall near the door. Standing in front of Sync, holding the cup in front of his chest where it could be easily seen, he said. "Take those clothes off first."

Why he expected any other reaction, Guy didn't know. Sync's cheek burned past the point of fever and his eyes opened vastly, even taking a step back away from the man. "E-Excuse me?!" With his brows furrowed and fists clenched, Guy could distinctly recognize the familiar fighting stance.

Before he could throw any punches, Guy held up his hands frantically. "I-I didn't mean like that!" He could even feel his own face warming up. He really should have explained that better. "You just need to get into warmer, _drier_ clothes. If you stay in those, it's not going to help you."

Sync stared at him, lips still pursed and face flushed. "I-I…suppose that makes sense."

"I'll go ahead and wait outside then." He could have just ended it there, but something about seeing Sync in this light was endearing. It was hard to believe this was the same person he had gone head to head with. The same person who was standing in front of him, posture so small and looking to be on the verge of shaking if Guy had meant something different.

As he turned around, Sync's voice stopped him. "You…can stay in here." Guy glanced back at him, and when he caught Sync's eyes, the boy instantly looked away from him and to the ground instead. "I can't have someone seeing you out there. Just go into the bathroom right over there."

Guy paused before he grinned, nodding as he headed towards the door Sync pointed at. "Okay, just let me know when I can come out." He did as he was told, closing the door behind him and waiting in the silent room. He could faintly hear the rustling of closet doors opening from the close walls — but he quickly let his eyes take over and attempt to find interest in the bathroom structure before he could imagine the idea of Sync undressing.

It was just as standard as the main room, the only thing striking were the towels folded next to the shower. Those definitely seemed of higher quality than he was used to, but that probably one of the few perks he received with his room. Even if he was in dry clothes, Guy could still picture the way his hair fell flat over his head from being wet. Just as he grabbed the towel, he heard a knock on the door and a meek voice following afterwards. "I'm ready."

Guy felt his heart skip a beat as he opened the door, unsure of what he would see. Instead of the extravagant wardrobe he saw on him every time they met, his attire was just a loose black shirt that hung no lower than slightly below his neck and pants that were the same shade, loose until they clutched to his ankles. The blond was able to catch small signs of scarring on every part of his exposed body, and while that was normal for him to see on his comrades, he could tell that the wounds had been deeper. He was sure he had seen burns too. Sync's hands wrapped around his arms over his chest and Guy saw the way he fought to keep himself from looking away from the blond this time, trying to erase all signs of vulnerability.

"That's...much better." Guy reinforced his smiled weakly, keeping all possible comments to himself. He took the towel off his arm and put it over Sync's head, making sure not to cover his face. He felt him flinch under his touch and even with how carefully he placed it over him, he still expected some fight that never occured. "...I knew your hair was still wet so I thought this would help too."

Guy was always careful with his words, always making sure he never slipped up. It was just something that had came naturally to him over time, but with Sync, he felt that he really had to think about the sentence he spoke. He could feel his caretaker side coming out as he ruffled the towel over his head, wanting to praise him for his good behavior. He also wanted to check up on him, making sure he wasn't crossing any boundaries. But as Sync remained still, his head turned down so that all Guy could see were his eyelashes peeking out, he assumed it was fine.

"That medicine…" Sync started, knocking Guy out of his daze.

"Yeah?"

"There's no correct way to take it, is there?"

Instead of feeling the fear of being called out, Guy simply chuckled as he gently massaged the towel over his head, making sure to dry the longer pieces of hair beneath it. "You caught me."

"Why...are you still here then?" Sync's head lifted, but his vision still didn't meet his.

Guy knew it wasn't a gesture of telling him to leave, but rather a question. A question Guy was still trying to figure out for himself. "I didn't want you to take it earlier because you probably would have passed out in the halls if we did that. It causes drowsiness…and I may have added a little extra just to make sure you get a good night's rest."

Sync's shoulders relaxed fully and when he looked up at Guy from under the towel, the blonde could see a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips. "Planning to kill me in my sleep, huh?"

Guy was pretty sure he could detect a tone of sarcasm in his voice, making him realize this was the first time he's heard anything close to a joke come out of his mouth. He kept his response light though, feeling the need to clarify his actions as he did so. "You should know I only reserve low blows like that for people I actually hate."

"R...right." Sync lowered his head ever so slightly, muttering out. "People you hate…"

Guy held onto the edge of the towel, letting it fall behind Sync's hand and onto his shoulders. His hair was still wet to the touch, but not enough that it was soaking like before. It was even starting to stand like it usually did. "You should probably take that medicine now."

Sync nodded, moving away from him as soon as Guy pulled the towel off of his shoulders and placed it on the back of a chair near his desk. When he looked back at Sync, he was already sitting on the bed, his toes just barely touching the floor as his legs hung off the side of it. His eyes were still looking directly at the wooden panelling on the ground, only glancing at Guy a few times as he made his way in front of him, holding the jar in his hands.

"It's a bit thick but you still should be able to drink it." He screwed off the top of it, placing the jar in Sync's hands as he watched the other inspect it cautiously. "Don't worry, it doesn't taste that bad."

Sync peered at the jar, sloshing the fluid around as if it would help determine whether it was safe to take. He glanced at Guy once more, who stood there watching him — and who was beginning to feel traces of an awkward tension between them. But once he looked back at the medicine, he took the medicine in one gulp as he tilted his head fully back, closing his eyes. Guy kept his lips pursed, a feeling of laughter bubbling inside of him from the dramatic sight.

When Sync held his head back up, he looked up at Guy with downturned eyes and lips twitching in disgust. "That…was worse than I expected."

Guy snorted, lifting his hand up to act as if he was scratching his cheek when he tried to keep his amusement from showing. "I guess everybody's different." He took the jar from his hand when Sync gladly handed it back to him, nearly dropping it into his palms. He set it on the nightstand next to him before looking back at Sync, leaning over ever so slightly as he set his palm on his head, ruffling through his hair. The look of disgust left Sync's face as the hand fell onto his head, and he closed his eyes and flinching at the touch. But he remained still under Guy, strands of hair falling over his face.

"Get some sleep and take it easy, okay?" Sync barely made any response to the question, but Guy felt as if he didn't need any reassurance from him at this point. He was content. He stood up and smiled down at him once more, leaning his head to the side as he looked down at him. He turned around, keeping his eyes on his face before he said, "I'll see myself out."

And as he turned his head, he stepped forward and immediately felt a pull backwards from behind him. He felt as if he should have been more alarmed from the sudden hold, but even as he looked back, the sight of Sync pulling at his sleeve left him that confused as well. The boy's face was held down but the blond could still see the evident traces of red on his cheeks, more so than he had ever seen on his face from tonight.  
  
_Sync the Tempest_ was blushing.

"Will you…" Sync's voice was yielding and immediately trailed off, leaving the two of them in silence for a brief moment, "…stay with me?"

Guy was quiet, mouth ajar and eyes widening. He almost wondered if he heard him correctly.

"— at least until I fall asleep." Sync quickly blurted out, hanging his head even lower.

Guy noticeably felt his heart skip a beat and a warmth bellowed in his chest. Without thought, he smiled so widely he could feel it in his cheeks. As he turned back around to face Sync, he nodded. "Of course."

He looked down at his sleeve, seeing the way Sync still dug his fingers into the folds of the fabric. His knuckles were tight and he could see the faint trembling in his arm. When he stepped closer, it was then his fingers unhooked from his sleeve and fell back at his side. He straightened himself out, turning around to crawl into his bed before Guy even had the thought to instruct him to do so. As Sync tucked himself beneath his sheets, Guy took a seat on the edge of the bed, looking over his shoulder to see Sync looking up at him, who (un)surprisingly looked away as soon as their eyes met. Guy didn't mind, looking forward into the room with the whimsical smile that wouldn't leave his face.

At first there was a familiar silence between them, only the hollow hum of hallways outside the room keeping their eyes preoccupied. Guy was tempted to look back at Sync every so often, although he doubt Sync had actually fallen asleep that quickly. However, he had the faint feeling that he was being watched and figured Sync wouldn't want him the same feeling on him as he lulled to sleep.

He heard a groan behind him. "This medicine… is working a lot faster than I thought it would."

"Yeah, it's...definitely strong."

"...Are you going back to your friends after this?" The question came out in a sleepy mutter, and even Guy couldn't tell if it was a genuine question or an attempt for forced conversation.

"I am." Guy locked his hands together, eyes focusing on different aspects of the room, trying to find signs of anything interesting or pertaining to Sync. So far, all he could see were paperwork scattered over his desk, thick books near the corners of it. "And don't worry, I won't tell them anything about this." He considered waiting for Sync's response, but realized that maybe just talking would help him fall asleep faster instead of trying to think of something to say back to him. "I figured you wouldn't want me to."

Sync answered anyway. "I…see…"

"I don't think they'd see it as a bad thing though — at least after I explained everything. It's kind of hard to have a friend tell you they've been fraternizing with the enemy and not be concerned." He was quiet, his mouth hanging open as he found it hard to get himself to speak the next sentence. "And don't take this the wrong way but I… don't know if I see you… as an enemy anymore."

He could just see it: Sync snapping out of his sleep to punch him in the back of the head for being so trusting and doubting him. The punch never came though, but in the off chance that he was still plotting something, Guy kept speaking. "I'm not trying to say I don't think you still couldn't pack a punch towards me but I… wouldn't feel right doing the same thing to you."

His knuckles tightened as he held his own hands tighter, looking up at the ceiling.

"In a weird way, I think we could be more than that."

Why hadn't he stopped talking? Although he could think of no consequence in saying these words, there was still something tight in his chest that made him feel he should be hesitant with his words. He didn't think of what the others would say about them, but rather of how he was thinking of Sync, in a way that felt familiar but unusual.

"Maybe…we could be friends."

Guy let himself stop talking. He felt as if he had been holding his breath; he expected the words to be a surprise to Sync as much as they were to himself. All in a moment, his mind finally felt a little less clouded for the first time in days.

After sitting in silence, anxiously waiting for some sort of reply, he gave into temptation and looked fully behind him, feeling a wave of relief (and somehow, regret) by seeing Sync's face fully relaxed into his pillow. His hand curled close to his chest, holding the blankets in his fingers. His cheeks had finally returned to their flush signs of fever red and not the blushing hue he had seen before. He looked to be blissfully unaware that Guy was even there anymore, and somehow, Guy was more focused on how natural he looked rather than the thought of if he had heard him.

Guy sighed, but smiled nonetheless. He stood to his feet and kept his footsteps light as he walked to the doorway, fingers settling on the light switch as he looked behind him once more.

"'Til next time, sleep tight, Sync."


	5. Chapter 5

Legretta kept it to herself.

Van had asked her before in passing; “Has anything happened to Sync?” and for once, she didn’t have a clear answer. She had barely spent any of her missions with the boy since he chose to reveal his identity — he had barely spent time with anyone. Even now, with the two of them separated between the tables at the private quarters of the library in Chesidonia, reports sprawled across the tops of the wooden tables, there seemed to be a greater distance between them.

As her fingers flipped through the reports, the only sound of paper shuffling passing between them, she perked up at Sync curiously. He sat a few seats away from her, his fingers pressing against his cheek as his eyes dwindled over the reports. It had been some time since she had recalled him taking off his mask in front of her. She imagined she’d never see the day come again. 

It wasn’t in her nature to worry about personal issues of her employees, but her knit circle of God-Generals was different. They all hadn’t known much about each other, only what was known through what Van had assessed on them. But when it came to Arietta and Sync, although she knew the two were more than capable of taking care of themselves, she did find herself having more maternal thoughts more often than not when it came to them.

It’s not as if Sync was ever one to strike up a conversation anyway. But his presence was different; even without his mask, she didn’t expect to see such a relaxed setting on his face. His shoulders not as hunched. Even his head lifted more often than not. Apparently that hadn’t been the only change as well. Van had informed her that their training sessions were often cut short. Sync was distracted; he missed targets, obvious opportunities for attacks and cues. That was what has triggered her into observing him more and noticing the physical differences in him.

Even now, she must have been staring at him for at least two minutes and he hadn’t even bat an eye at her.

Yes, she kept things to herself. Even so—

“I see you’re not wearing your mask anymore.”

Sync blinked midway reading through the report, lending his head off his hand slightly to glance at her. His eyes widened; it seemed like conversation was the last thing he was expecting out of this ordeal.

“Oh, yeah… It’s been off for a while now.”

Even the way he spoke was less rigid. Even if not for Van’s consultation, it would not have taken her long to notice the differences in her coworker.

“But it appears that it’s not the only thing that seems off about you.” She might as well put these distractions to rest, she thought.

Sync froze as he flipped through a report, the page falling back into place the same place as before. He exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers raking through his hair before he spoke, “...I guess you heard.”

“Van told me. Although if I had been training with you, I’m sure I would have noticed it as well.”  
  
Sync scratched his head, pulling his hand from his hair as a few strands followed and fell into his face. His shoulders pulled back and she expected to hear him sigh heavily, but as the tension let up in his shoulders, she heard nothing. Her lips parted once more to ask him specifically this time what was causing these distractions, but Sync was already speaking before she had a chance.

“Why… why are you with Van?”

It had been an odd choice of words; she would even go as far to ask why they were about to be on this entirely new, personal topic. “...I beg your pardon? We’re not—”

“W-wait, let me rephrase that…” Legretta didn’t take her eyes off of Sync and he seemed to notice, his face warming up. Since when had he allowed himself to show anything but resentment and complete focus around her? “I don’t mean to pry, but I’ve heard the rumours — about how you were originally against Van, but somehow found yourself on his side…”

Legretta leaned in; he didn’t appear to be done.

“What I mean is...how did you allow yourself to side with the enemy?”

And Legretta leaned back into her chair, setting the papers down on the desk as her hands brushed against them. It had been a while since she allowed herself to think of that time, at least in such depth. In the beginning, not a day went by where she didn’t think about every opportunity she could to catch the Commandant off his guard, and slowly she learned of his vision, and not a day went by where she wasn’t developing plans to help achieve that vision.

He had given her life purpose again.

As she breathed in deeply, her eyes had wandered to the ceiling and then back to Sync, who looked unsure if he should even be meeting her gaze. There was something odd in his visage — like asking the question itself wasn’t the intention.

“Why do you ask?” She settled on that for now. She had heard the rumours, or rather, the truth get back to her, with some skewing involved. If she had ever heard a name though, she’d be quick to eliminate where the gossip had originated. She wouldn’t be taken lightly.

“I was...just curious.” Sync met her sight, and his face broke into nerves once again as she raised a brow. “I...just wanted to know the truth since we were working so closely together. It’s something I’ve wondered for a while, but I understand if it sounds like I’m prying.”

She felt herself grinning, oddly. It there was one thing she appreciated it was honesty, especially from those who just decided to come up to her and ask. Although, she wouldn’t have told anyone but Sync seemed to be the exception. “Well, they aren’t all entirely rumours.”

Legretta’s gaze fell down to the papers in front of her, eyes skipping over the words of the report as she spoke, “My brother had been sent to war by Van, but my brother believed he would be safe with him as long as he was guiding him. When I found out he had died in the war, I took it upon myself to read the Score, only to find out that he was walking into his own grave. I knew that Van knew, and with that in mind, I set out to kill him.”

She glanced at Sync, his eyes set on her, arms crossed with the weight of his chest on them.

“...But when I had found him, he helped me realize that the Score was to blame. There was no way to defy it — or so I had thought.”

“He...helped you realize that?”

“I had always hated that the Score dictated our lives and wish it had never existed — but he had a plan to change all of that.” Her eyes lead up to sky of the ceiling, taking a moment to find peace in the architecture above her head. “I suppose it takes the right person to make you realize what’s important.”

“...I guess so.” Sync kept his eyes on her, noticing her present silence. “Did… anything happen after that?”

“After that, he promoted me to be his personal aide, giving me the opportunity to kill him if I found a moment.” She looked back at Sync, humming something close to a chuckle in her throat, “But obviously, that didn’t go as planned. I began to believe in him too much to allow myself to do that. After training Tear, I was much too invested to ever think of harming him again.”

Legretta sighed, taking a moment to let her shoulders sink before she sat upright into her chair again. “And that’s how we come to today. Did that clear everything up for you?”

Sync mirrored her movement, sitting up into his chair again, glancing at the documents in front of him. With a delay, he nodded, “Yeah… yeah, it did.”

“I’m glad. I trust you’ll keep that all to yourself?”

“I don’t even know who I would tell.” Sync smirked, shaking his head casually. “I guess… it makes it easier to see where you come from, especially in regards to siding with Van.”

“We all have our own personal reasons, as I’m sure you do too.”

“...Yeah, definitely.” Despite the softness in his reply, he kept eye contact with her. She wondered if he always possessed this much focus, even with his mask off? She supposed she should expect nothing less.

“With all that said, I think we’ve done our part here today.” She began collecting the papers in front of her, setting them in a neat stack before folding them into the envelope where she kept them previously. “We still have a few more reports to go over, but we’re needed back in Daath by tonight.” Setting the envelope in her travelling bag, she stood to her feet.

Sync followed her example, taking the documents and filing them away. As he set his own envelope in his bag, she spoke again, “Sync, did telling you all of that ease you at all? I know you seem distracted and I’d rather we get this sorted out sooner than later.”

Sync almost froze as he stood up, looking up at her to meet her eyes. He nodded again, standing up straight and hooking the bag over his shoulder, “I… understand. And yes, it helped. I’m already feeling like my old self again.”

“I’m sure choosing to remove your masks comes with some consequences, but it’s only a matter of time before it becomes routine.”

“Right.”

Legretta lead the way out of the private quarters of the library, leading them through the hallways before making it outside in minutes. The heat hit her as soon as she stepped outside, her once cool body warming up almost instantly. She was already missing the mimic of a breeze and chill inside the library. Even so, she held her hand up to her eyes to allow them to get use to the overly bright scenery and within moments, they were walking again.

Sync followed a few feet behind her, the two of them keeping their communication minimal as they trailed down an alley on their way to the docks, a shortcut, Legretta insisted.

As they walked out of the walls of the alley, Legretta caught a familiar sight in the corner of her eye and her head instinctively turned to see that their rivaling group was nothing short of a few more feet in front of her as well. She glanced at Sync, who had seem to just catch on who was in front of them moments after her, and was only a few short steps from walking into her.

Despite that, she kept her eyes on them. It felt like her face was nothing but neutral but she could feel how tight her jaw was with how she clenched her teeth behind her lips. She quickly darted her eyes between all of them, but found her focus on Tear, who seemed to have the same expression of regret every time they met up like this.

“Major…?” Her voice came out soft and for a moment, it took Legretta back to her training days and how she use to call her name, just like that.

However, those days were over. “Tear.”

She glanced around the group again, finding that all of their eyes focused on her but one pair — Guy and Anise. The two of them didn’t seem to share the same calm yet threatened expression as the rest of their group, but even so, the two of them weren’t exactly matching either. She seemed bewildered, confused. Her gaze most likely directed towards Sync, perhaps because of the familiarity that came from seeing his face.

But Guy? That was an expression she couldn’t seem to understand why it was there, or why it was in Sync’s direction. His brows furrowed and his lip pursed, like he was ready to say something. But his eyes; instead of heavy with vexation, those blue eyes seemed to hold something more...melancholy? Remorse?

“Have you...come to fight?” Tear spoke up, and it brought Legretta back to the girl’s wide eyes.

Something like the way Tear looked at her?

Legretta turned her head to Sync, and it was that same expression. One that she hadn’t recalled Sync ever making, or even assumed he was capable of. His eyes stood fixated on them, or rather, as she slowly followed the line the eyesight, it lead to no one other than the opposing blond. Those two sharing the same face as each other, the same face as Tear, the same face as— And then it all clicked.

“Major, I said—”

“No.” Legretta kept her vision on Guy, who still hadn’t even looked her way before turning back to Tear. “We have no interest in a fight.” And without even looking his way, she called, “Isn’t that right, Sync?”

As she glanced over at him, she watched him break eyesight with the blond to actually take the time to acknowledge her words and nod towards her. “R-right…”

“With that said, we’ll be on our way. There’s no reason for us to engage in anything right now.” Legretta turned her back on them sharply, an odd confliction of emotions beginning to arise in her. She took a few steps before calling out, “Sync. Let’s go.”

She listened to the shuffling steps of sand and gravel under his feet as he quickly turned her way and followed after her. Their expressions burned into her mind, and with how she remembered how tightly the blond’s lips were sealed, she was surprised he had not called out to them.

Those faces had brought something up inside of her, recognizing their feelings of yearning, an unspoken familiarity of some sorts. A feeling she knew all too well, before Tear had even had the chance to call her ‘Major’. One she had felt every moment in her early days of working for Van, where the debate of whether she wanted him to be her foe or not.

The two continued to walk in silence and once again, there was distance between them.

 

* * *

   
Anise knew something was up.

Guy had withdrawn from the group long before Luke had sent them off to gather supplies. Sitting by himself at one of the bar tables near the window, although no light pooled in from the one he sat by, Anise didn’t know when she’d get another chance to speak privately with him about what she had seen — or why he was acting the way he was. She knew Guy had his own secrets he still tried to hide, but Anise felt as if she wrote the book on keeping secrets (hey, she could sell that) and if he was going to try and get away with them, he at least needed to be sneaky enough to ward off her suspicions.

She waltzed up to him with her hands behind her back in such a theatrical manner that she was slightly offended when Guy didn’t bat an eye to her performance. She breathed in heavily, forcing the negative emotions away as she chirped out, “Hey there, Guy!”

He blinked for a split moment, before his eyes widened and he instinctively stood up straight — and farther from her. His hand was out from the cup of his palm and he seemed to relax once he realized it was Anise who was in front of him. “Oh, hi, Anise.”

“You’ve been so quiet today.” She took a seat across the table from him, although he still fidgeted in his spot with each movement that brought herself closer to him. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

Guy grinned, as expected, taking a moment to scratch his cheek while he forced out a quick chuckle. “Is it really that bad? I didn’t think I was any more quiet than usual.” Setting his hand down back on to the table, he glanced out the window, then back to Anise, then back to the window. “I guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“Oh? About what?” Anise leaned in, her words drawn out as she curled her fingers together.

Maybe he heard the slightest tinge of desperation in her voice because all Guy did was laugh again, this time actually sounding genuine as he did so. He looked back at her, the grin still wide on his face. “Nothing you don’t already know about.”

Little did he know, she thought to herself.

She could have humored him, pretend she didn’t know anything. But she was getting impatient, suddenly voicing out, “Does it have to do with your friend you met up with that night in Daath?”

Guy had just leaned down against the table, only to prop himself back up. His eyes widened ever so slightly and for a moment, he just stared at the young girl. “Excuse me?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” She curled her fingers together, leaning her head daintily on her hands. “I saw you leave in the middle of the night that time we stayed in Daath.”

“I was going for a walk.”

Sure, Anise thought, that could have been true. “Except you’ve been acting different ever since that night too — even before that!”

Guy bared his teeth as he smiled nervously, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. “Like I said, a lot on my mind. I’m sure you’ve had your share of sneaking off when things come up.”

Anise’s eyelids sunk, pouting her lip without thinking before turning her head away from him dramatically. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Chuckling, Guy bat one last look at her before his eyes fell back to the scenery outside the window. The light pooling was almost to the feet of the table, he noticed. “That’s what I thought.”

As Anise turned back to him, she felt slightly defeated, her shoulders slumping as she mirrored his movements. Her head fell into her hand and her eyes followed Guy’s, noting there was nothing of interest outside the frames of the window. She questioned her ability to stir up any emotions in Guy; other than Jade, the other’s were much more susceptible to her words. Her vision flickered to him once more, rolling her eyes as she then decided to draw her attention to the bystanders scattered around the hobby of the Inn.

“Well, if you _are_ leaving in the middle of the night to fraternize with some mysterious woman—”

“Let’s not go there again.”

“I’m just saying!” She couldn’t help, and although she hadn’t meant for the words to slip out, her smile may have indicated otherwise, “Or maybe it’s a mysterious man, for all I know.”

Guy snorted suddenly, eyes drifting back to Anise, hand dropping back to the table and to the edges, holding it. “I’m just going to stop you right there.”

“Come on, it’s possible.” Her teeth showed brightly as she smiled, a laugh coming through as well. “I mean, it’s not like we’ve ever seen you up close and personal with anyone—”

“Anise.”

“Guy.”

His eyes flickered to the entrance, then back to her, where his brows furrowed against his lids. “We should meet back up with the others. I think you’ve had your fun of speculating for today.” Holding tight to the rim of the table, he pushed himself off of his seat and headed towards the door.

Anise couldn’t help but smile, feeling as though she had struck a nerve. She followed his action, bouncing off the stool and following after him, hands flowing outstretched behind her. As Guy flung open the lobby door, she had to commend him for his prediction, as the other’s were right out front the building, seemingly just starting to come together. They looked up the steps to where Guy and Anise stood, the two strolling down the steps as they merged with the group.

“Did you get everything you needed?” Guy asked, eyes glancing between all of them, a hand stopping at his hip.

“I think so. I didn’t see any new weapons around here so I just stocked up on gels.” Luke glanced down at his bag of merchandise, shaking it slightly.

“As did I.” Tear joined in, holding up her bag of gels as well.

“I’d say we’re all set then.” Guy’s eyes settled on Luke, nodding his head, to which the redhead nodded in return.

Moments after, the group was on their way. Anise settled between them; her mind was still focused on Guy brushing off her speculations earlier. Maybe there really was nothing wrong and she was just getting ahead of herself. It’s not as if it was new for Guy to keep his thoughts to himself. But she couldn’t help but feel as though his distance had increased between him and the group. His thoughts would be lost; when spoken to, his name would have to be called twice before someone could get a reaction out of him. Anise had thought about resorting to jumping on him again to just to see the life brought back into his eyes.

No, that wasn’t a correct term — his blue eyes still were lit, and instead of looking down, she caught him staring at what was above him more often than not. The architecture in the cities, the leaves on the trees in forests, even the clouds in the sky if the sun was pushed behind them.

Even now, as she walked beside him, his head tilted upwards towards the sky. She noticed sweat drip from his brow and down his face, and for a moment, it made her aware of just how warm she was too. There were in the desert, after all.

Normally though, Guy wasn’t so out of it. Any other day, he would have noticed her staring by now - probably bring up a comment about how she was still speculating in her head. She missed it, but that didn’t mean this wasn’t interesting to her as well. If there was something powerful enough to get a response like this out of him, she wanted to know exactly what it was. What would keep his visage so relaxed, yet so alive at once?

Then, at that moment, she saw his vision widen and his body stop. In fact, everyone had stopped — she was close to running into Luke if she hadn’t stopped in time. She glanced over to what everyone was suddenly stopping at, and as her eyes tore to what was in front of her, she realized it was a very good reason to stop them all in their tracks.

In front of them, Legretta and Sync stood in front of them. Not confronting, almost as if she were just walking by and like that, they had all managed to end up in the same place. The Major’s expression hadn’t changed at all; her pursed lips on the verge of a scowl and heavy eyes directed towards them, eyeing more towards Tear.

And Sync — there was something off about him. She noticed he must have been keeping up with withdrawing the mask from his face. However, his expression was the one that was more different from before. The scowl was gone and there wasn’t a glare directed to them, or for her, for once. He looked in her direction, but their eyes weren’t meeting. His lips were pursed, to the point where it looked so forced that he was trying to keep his mouth shut.

For once, seeing the look on his face reminded her of Ion.

“Major…?” Tear started, the tension thick between them. Had they come to settle something, right here in the middle of town?

“Tear.” Legretta replied, voice just as heavy and cold as the expression on her face.

Anise found it odd that when she looked between the pair in front of her, nothing about them seemed uniform. Legretta stood tall with her heels digging into the dirt beneath them, unwavering assertion even as wisps of her blonde hair grazed her cheeks when the wind blew. Sync, on the other hand, his fists were wrapped tight but on the verge of shaking, and his own spirit seemed much more sheepish. He hadn’t even insulted them yet, or said a single word.

What was he even looking at?

From behind Luke, she had managed to walk a few steps in front of Guy from earlier, and she looked up at the swordsman—

And it became even more odd.

The once hopelessly dazed look in the blond’s blue eyes were now heavy with what she could only describe as longing. It was the last look she expected to see on him, of all people. Had he had a reason to look like that? Out of everyone, who did Guy affiliate himself with when it came to the God-Generals? Besides him, there was a reason for everyone to share a spirit of familiarity. Sure, Sync had placed the curse slot on him but—

“Have you...come to fight?”

Anise felt her head whip back in Sync’s direction, noticing how the two of them mirrored each other.

 _Had_ they been familiar with one another? Anise’s brows pushed against her eyelids and she was beginning to feel her own head strain with complicated thoughts and scenarios and —

“Major, I said—”

“No.” There were too many aspects to follow. Anise found herself looking back at Legretta, whose lips only seemed to purse even more tightly since the last time she had looked at her. “We have no interest in a fight. Isn’t that right, Sync?”

And like a command, Sync shook out of his pining gaze and looked to Legretta, nodding at her words. “R-right…”

“With that said, we’ll be on our way. There’s no reason for us to engage in anything right now.”” Legretta turned away from them sharply, taking a few steps away from them. Sync remained in place though, head falling down to look at the ground. “Sync. Let’s go.”

And as she called him, he turned his head to look at her and he followed, taking one last glance towards them, or rather, just Guy, whose mouth looked like it was about to open to speak.

And just like that, it all became clear to Anise.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to this chapter goes to the app [cold turkey writer](https://getcoldturkey.com/writer/)! i seriously would have never gotten this chapter done so quickly without blocking literally everything on my computer and being forced to write 500 or so words before i could do anything else :')

Sync could tolerate the cold, but that didn’t mean he took pleasure in it. 

At all.

Pulling his arms in around himself, he rubbed his hands up his forearms hoping the friction would relieve him of the prickly, uncomfortable feeling emerging on his skin. It wasn’t even his idea to come to Keterburg — in fact, he tried to avoid it as much as possible. Before he could ask anyone where his next mission would lead him, Legretta was already at his doorway, informing him personally that he would be taking the job at Keterburg. That job in question was just dropping off reports from Daath, as well as collecting more from his current location and going through those as well.

It had been nothing _but_  paperwork lately. Was this his punishment for not keeping up in his training sessions? It wasn’t a cruel punishment; boring was a more appropriate term.

The cold didn't help though. He couldn’t feel the tip of his nose anymore as he wandered down the roads. Hopefully the inn would be in sight within minutes.

At least he was only spending a couple of days there, nothing too long term. He had just dropped off his assigned reports to the offices Legretta informed him of and held a new envelope of information in his palm. He hadn’t even taken a moment to scan through it, instead just taking it and pushing it, as well as a pen that was on the desk into the envelope as well. He’d go over it in his room later where it would be _much_ warmer. 

With the short time he’d be at Keterburg, he hadn’t bothered bringing a coat with him. He’d been spending most of his time in his room anyway, but he was starting to instantly regret that. Every minute his body remained in the snowy trails, flakes falling into his hair and dusting his cheeks, and the breeze nipping at his ears, he cursed himself for not remembering how much he hated Keterburg. He mused whether or not he should have just asked Legretta if she wanted to switch their tasks, she probably wouldn’t have mind.

It wasn’t long before he could see the building of his inn in sight though; it peeked over the quaint homes on the streets, bellowing over them and the dimly lit light poles formed on the streets, and Sync briefly thought that even if that wasn’t his inn, he’d rent a room anyway. It wasn’t as if he needed to save much of his money anyway; he could always get reimbursed from the Order. 

Trekking faster through the town, the snow crunching under his feet with each step and beginning to chill through his boots, the more the inn became visible following down the steady architecture. It wasn’t long before the third floor could be seen, then the second, then the first, and finally the —

— the blond he had become used to seeing so intimately over the last few months. 

Of course, members of his team were crowded with him, but that wasn’t what Sync was focusing on. 

Should he had even been surprised at that point? He was starting to wonder if he was just continuing to have the worse luck, even if seeing the swordsman warmed him enough to momentarily forget the cold that provoked his skin. Even with all of them huddled so closely together, the only thing Sync could focus on was the blond towering over his friends, watching them as they idly carried on a conversation that Sync was barely focusing on to even listen to.

Sync stopped in his tracks; it was difficult for him to turn his vision away from the sight. Guy wasn’t in his normal attire, instead sporting a thick jacket over his shoulders, his arms slipped out of the sleeves as they dangled further than his hands. Snow freckled over his hair and his shoulders, the occasional flake falling onto his face as he brushed it away. 

Through it all, he grinned. 

That same grin that kept Sync in a trance, unable to take anything else as a priority. His mouth hung open slightly, his breath coming out as small clouds, and he knew he should have turned away and high tailed it out of the vicinity at that point. Before he could act on that thought, he caught a glimpse of Guy glancing his way nonchalantly before turning his head completely to meet the other’s gaze.

As if on cue, Guy’s visage caught the attention of Luke, looking up at his friend and speaking something along the lines of “What are you looking—“ before he too turned around to face Sync, his expression somehow less surprised than Guy’s was. The domino effect continued, each of their members turning toward Sync, leaving the boy’s demeanor to turn from mesmerized to as if he had been caught doing something awkward.

(Not that he _wasn’t_  guilty of that, but nevertheless—)

Why hadn’t he ran yet?

“Sync.” And after what felt like an eternity, he heard his name called again from Guy, the one who didn’t say it as if there was poison on his tongue. He was so used to hearing his name out of spite, or as a command, or a response to a threat. But when it came from the blond’s throat, a mixture of something low and soothing, it would evoke fondness in the boy’s mind and his usual response was of his face warming.

He wanted to call out his name — he would have if they were alone, he knew he would. Instead, he swallowed and he took a step back, calculating. “…It’s you all again.”

“What are you doing here?” Luke asked, voice genuine with inquiry but still a hint of suspicion. Hearing that one talk disrupted his calm intentions, his lips tightening into a thin line. Before he could spit out a smart remark, Guy took another step toward him, his expression unchanged. 

“Did you know that…we’d be here?”

And there it was again, pulling him back like an anchor. Even with the question, Sync heard no signs of Guy being wary. But rather, sincere; welcoming, even. 

Sync sighed, his hand tightening around the envelope in his hand, not caring if the papers were to end up crumpled. “Not at all.” He allowed himself to tear his eyes away from Guy; he couldn’t allow all of his focus to be on him in front of everyone. “And like last time, I’m not here for a fight.”

It was all true; even if he had known they were here, his intentions still wouldn’t have dwelled on battling out another futile attempt to keep them away. All he craved was to have another moment of the man’s time, just to hear his voice, to explain something, _anything_ —

Sync needed to talk to him. Now.

How could he address him without letting the others know though? He could have taken a bet on whether or not he’d find him again later, but those chances were slim to none and it wasn’t worth the gamble. He couldn’t even mouth it or give any type of gesture without his friends looking at him strangely, and most likely catching on later.

“Then _why_  are you here?” Natalia spoke up this time, her words strained in distrust.

Sync looked down at his hands, he still had the papers and there was pen inside...it hit him. Plus, the former princess had given him enough of a reason to put on a show. He could still stay true to his roots.

“If you must know, _princess_ ,” Sync held up the envelope casually, pulling out the pen from between the papers, his voice heavy with superiority. He actually sounded like his old self; Van would be proud. “Some of us actually still have their titles and do require a little work every now and then to keep them.”

He had to make it all look casual, like it was all part of some important information he needed to write down. Previous missions had been more calculated than this and he handled them with ease, this would be easy. Even as he smirked, his heart raced as he scribbled a few words on the folded opening of the envelope. “I’m sure you remember what that’s like, don’t you?”

Tearing the piece off as discreetly as he could, he tucked the pen away and held the note in his palm as tightly as he could. Natalia had gasped, her seething expression looked exactly as he suspected when he looked back up at them. 

“How _dare_ you _—_ “

“With that said, I do have more important things to attend to. I’m sure the next time we meet, it’ll be exactly what you expect.” Even with the corners of his lips turned up, his words ended in a hiss. After all, he was still _their_  enemy. He continued to walk toward them, pushing past Luke, who moved out of his way slightly, Natalia, who had to be pulled away from him, and then finally Guy, who he intentionally knocked himself into. 

“Hey—!” Guy called out, stopping abruptly as Sync slapped the paper into his hand.

Sync’s smirked widened, hearing faint remarks about himself as he walked off. He hurried past the inn, finding it counter productive for them to see exactly where he was headed (it was big enough too, it _had_  to have another entrance). The cold began to emerge at his skin once more as he realized that the feeling had gone away as he interacted with them.

He traced the words again and again in his mind.

_We need to talk._

It was perfect.

 

* * *

 

It was _not_  perfect.

Sync sat on a bench outside the main park near one of the entrances of Keterburg, holding his arms tightly around himself again as he did so. There was no one around this time of evening; he recalled seeing some children throwing snowballs earlier but they seemed to had left at that point. As his teeth chattered in his mouth, every moment became agonizing as he replayed the moment in his head over and over, again.

It had been an hour, maybe even longer, and Guy still hadn’t found him

His message wasn’t clear enough — well, no, it was perfectly clear but Sync hadn’t given any indication of when or even _where_  they would talk. Keterburg wasn’t the largest city, and even though Sync hadn’t wandered off too far, it was still understandable for the swordsman to question where exactly he would even meet Sync at. 

Maybe he expected somewhere more private? What if he had to sneak out later tonight? Would Sync really be able to fight the cold for that long? 

The only thought that eased him was the memory of how he touched Guy, remembering the instant warmth he felt as their sides met, or how their hands actually touched again.

Sync could recall every time their hands touched, and it did provide some warmth.

Did that mean they were close? Even if he had to wait, Guy would surely show up—

‘What if he doesn’t even show up?’

The thought had just occurred to him and his stomach dropped. No, he had shown too much kindness to just _not_  show up. Why would that thought ever enter his mind? Then he remembered the stunt he had pulled earlier; they all seemed fairly close, what if Guy had seen the way he acted towards Natalia and decide he wasn’t any different from before and therefore, wasn’t worth his time? Or worse, what if he brought everyone with him—

How could he be so _stupid_?

Promptly, the sound of footsteps crunching the snow snapped him out of his anxious thoughts. His stomach dropped again, his skin crawling as a presence formed behind him. His head stayed locked forward, his heart racing suddenly at the impending conversation that awaited him.

The bench shifted as weight was put on the wall his back was placed against. He took a deep breath, turning his head to see —

“…Anise?”

“Hey, whatcha doing out here?” A thick scarf hugged tightly around Anise’s neck, her wide smile peeking from under the fabric. Her arms crossed over the back support of the bench, her chest idly hanging over it.

And like that, any heart flutters he experienced moments before this was replaced with nothing but his eyes narrowing in her direction, brows pressed heavily against his eyelids.

“What are _you_  doing here?”

“What, you weren’t expecting to see me?” Her smile — no, he wouldn’t call it that, she’s too smug— only widens as she spoke, her eyes pointed towards him knowingly. “Or rather, were you expecting to see someone else?”

Sync‘s nerves began to crawl onto his skin, “Who exactly would I be waiting for? Maybe I’m just finding time to recover from seeing your face earlier.”

“Ha-ha,” Anise rolls her eyes, but her didn’t deflate at all. “And maybe that is the case.”

Sync mirrored her actions, rolling his eyes and then turning his head to look forward, ven though she was still annoyingly visible in the corner of his eye. He wondered if he should begin imitating her beloved Ion,that would send her running in seconds.

“…Or maybe you’re waiting for Guy.”

Suddenly, his head spins back to look at her and he can’t tell if he’s fuming or flabbergasted, the thought of revenge immediately leaving his mind. “He _told_  you?!”

“He didn’t have to.” Her brows raise as he stands upright, her arms outstretched and her fingers daintily tapping against the wood of the bench as she takes small steps from around the bench to the front of it. “I just put two and two together.”

Although he had barely admitted it a few seconds ago, he turned his head far, far away from her again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please.” Anise had made her way to the front of bench at this point, brushing away snow from the seat before she sat down. “All it took was a few good deduction skills. Also, keeping the mask on probably would have been the best option considering he’s the only one you look at when we’re around. It’s like nothing else matters if Guy is there.”

Sync stays silent, cursing himself in his mind. Was it that obvious? If Anise knew, surely everyone else had to know at this point. “I… I don’t understand—“

“You’re just lucky it was me who caught on. Anyone else would have questioned you right there, or confronted Guy about it. But it looks like you’re safe. I haven’t seen anyone even talk to him directly.” Her elbows fell to her knees, which lead her head to fall into the palms of her hands as she stared at Sync, eyes on the verge of sparkling.

Sync swore he felt a chill come through the air, which was odd because he was sure his body was on fire at that point. How could he let himself slip up like that? Van noticed, Legretta noticed, even _Anise_  noticed? 

“What…exactly do you know?”

“See, that’s the thing.” Her smile faded, but her eyes continued to stay focused on him. “I don’t exactly know what’s going on between you two. I just can tell that you have some familiarity with one another.” She leaned in, head tilting over to just get a peek of Sync’s face. “I mean, you did place the curse slot on him but…it’s been awhile since all of that happened.”

Sync wanted to sigh, but instead breathed through his mouth heavily as a cloud puffed past his lips; he had wished the curse slot could have been put to rest.

“He’s been acting differently too. He’s not the most talkative one but it’s like he always has his head up in the clouds! So, I thought it would be best for all of us to just get this out in the open.”

Anise’s voice always had a way of keeping him on edge, and with how he could feel her scooting closer to him, and with this pseudo-interrogation, his heart began to race. His teeth were already clenched behind his lips. Something burned inside of him.

“What did _you_  do to him?”

Sync snaps back towards her, brows turned towards his eyelids and his eyes burning beneath them. “ _I_  didn’t do anything! He started all of this! I never asked for it!”

Anise jumped back, her brown eyes widening as she blinked several times. But within moments, she was back to leaning into the conversation, hands pressed against her chilled knees. “Wait, it’s a whole thing? How long has this even been going on?”

“It’s only been a few months but it feels like _forever_. We just keep bumping into each other!” Sync’s hands shake as he talks and he’s sure it’s not from the cold.

Anise’s brow raised, her mouth hanging ajar.. “So…you’re not blackmailing him or something like that? Nothing like a curse slot redux?”

“Where would you even — no! That’s all behind me at this point, we’re not even like that anymo—“ Sync cut himself off, already knowing he had said too much. With wide eyes, he turns away from her again, standing to his feet. “I have to go.”

“Wait!” Anise called out, standing to her feet as well and stepping toward him. “So…what exactly are you two like now?”

Sync’s hands fell to his sides and his fists balled up tightly beneath his gloves. He should have just ran as soon as he saw her. Who cared about looking like a coward, _this_  was worse. “We’re not anything.”

“Yeeeah, everything has lead me to believe that is _not_  the case.” Even as she kept speaking to him, there was never a hint of frustration; only curiosity. “You’re the one he has been seeing alone, right?”

He turned his head towards her again, a brow raising at her question. “How…did you come up with that?”

“Like I said, it just takes a few skills that I consider myself to excel at! It just seems that whenever he runs off somewhere on his own, he comes back in a completely different mood than when we saw him. I remember that time we were in Daath and it was raining, then we got separated in the forest—”

“Or when he was collecting firewood…”

“When was— wait, that was you?! We were wondering why he never came back with it! We had to send him back to get more!”

Sync crossed his arms, the memory still clear in his mind. It was the first time they had really spoke to one another, the first time he could remember really _speaking_  to anyone that wasn’t in regards to missions or his own incompetence. A conversation that made him feel like an actual person. Like he had value.

Sync hadn’t answered her, so she continued. “What are you two even doing when he runs off? Doesn’t Guy know a thing or two about fraternizing with the enemy?”

Sync’s head falls limp and he doesn’t even catch himself looking at the icy ground, his footprints still fresh from when he first got there, but peppered in snow.  “We’re not conspiring together.” His voice goes soft, feeling almost at peace when he says, “We just talk. It’s…nice.”

“You _t_ _alk_  and it’s _nice_?” With her eyes opening up again, she crossed her arms as she tilted her head in uncertainty. “I’m so confused. What are you guys, some star crossed lovers, running off to see each other to just _t_ _alk_?’’

Sync’s face burns almost instantly as she says, for a reason he felt he should know why, but couldn’t pinpoint it. He crossed his arms again, unable to find the words to say. Of course that’s not what they were, but it still makes his heart race in his chest at the implication. They’ allies, perhaps?

He had the word ‘friend’ stuck in his mind, but with everything between them, he questions whether or not they could even identify each other as that.

The silence must have spoken to Anise because she started talking again, seemingly growing bored without a response. “I don’t know, you just don’t seem like the type of person who would just ‘talk’ to someone unless maybe you _really_  liked—“

Anise stops he sentence abruptly, her words cut off by an exaggerated gasp.

“Do you _l_ _ike_  Guy?”

It’s enough to make Sync turn back towards her completely, his fists balled up so hard he can barely feel his fingers. He doesn’t even think about the fact that his face is still burning from earlier implications, as well as his frustration with her. “W-what? No, I just — we’re just —“

Then her eyes widen, and she gasps once more, this time sounding more genuine and shocked than before. “Oh Hod — you actually _do_  like him.”

“I never said that!”

“It’s written all over your face! It’s freezing out here and you still manage to turn red!” Her statement was more of an observation than teasing, which comes surprising even for her. “Does he like you back?”

“I don’t know — wait, I wouldn’t even know anything about that!”

“And here I thought you’d be good at lying! Unless you’re trying to make me believe that you actually _do_  like Guy, in that case, you’re doing a wonderful job at that.”

Sync’s pursed his lips into a thin line, wanting to open his mouth and retract her statements but he found it difficult to grasp the words. Why did any mention of Guy cause him to become so flustered? He kept his words to himself, in case he continually happens to mess it all up within seconds, which is the one successful thing he’s managed to accomplish now than he has in a long time. 

“Your silence speaks volumes.”

With even more silence following, he sighed heavily and took a seat back onto the bench, unaware of how Anise keeps her eyes fixated on him curiously, leaning in to catch a sight of his face. He wraps his arms back around himself and holds his head down low. 

“So, what? You going to tell all of your friends? Have them communicate that message straight to Van next time they see him?”

“Sync—“

“Go ahead, it’s not like I…like anything was ever going to happen between us.”

“Wow.” She took a seat right next to him, finding it hard to tear her eyes away from how defeated he looks. “You really do like him.”

“How many more times are you going to say that…?”

“Until it actually feels real! I didn’t think you were capable of feeling anything like that.” Her words sting slightly and makes him twitch, but it isn’t as if Sync hasn’t thought of them before. “Do you just want to be friends with him? Or…something more?”

It feels like the question Sync has been asking himself since everything happened between them. “I…don’t know. I just…want to be close to him.”

“That’s…weirdly romantic.” Sync’s ears burn as soon as she says it, instantly wishing he could take it back. It didn’t matter though. Either way, all of this was going to go up in flames, either from himself or if Van ever found out, before he even had a clue to figure out exactly what it was that he actually wanted to say to Guy the next time he would see him.

“Whatever. Are you done yet?”

“I’m just trying to wrap my brain around all of this.” Anise rubbed her temples, but at the same time, she couldn’t keep herself from smiling. As she turned her head to look back at Sync, the sight of his warm cheeks peeking from behind wisps of his hair, his head held into his hands like this was the most humiliating thing he’d ever been through, Anise felt a pang of guilt hit her. She almost didn’t believe it, she actually felt bad for him.

“Look, I won’t tell anybody. It’s easier to just believe that this is some ploy to somehow stop us, but I don’t think that’s what it is.”

“That would have been easier than this…” Sync took his head out of his hands, continuing to stare at the ground.

Anise kicked her feet back and forth, cautiously looking around the area. “Sooo, were you planning on meeting him tonight?”

Sync peeks at her, but she can still clearly see his flushed face and downturned lips. His brows were still furrowed but his eyes are glossy, looking as if he can barely stand to look at her, embarrassed by the turn of events. “That was the plan. I’ve been out here for a while but he still hasn’t come.”

“Hm. He may still be at the inn. We split the rooms in half so he’s probably looking for an opportunity to leave without getting questioned.”

“...And how are you out here?”

“I mean...I’m not proud of it, but I am a pro at sneaking off and gathering information.” There’s less of a spark when she spoke that sentence and Sync catches on to the jab at herself. 

“Ah, I see.”

“Yeah.” Her voice softened and at the time, she looked to the sky, a few snowflakes catching on her tan cheeks and onto her long eyelashes. There’s silence between them for a moment, a bit of tension, but nothing too awkward. “What were you two going to talk now?”

Sync sighed. “I don’t even know.”

“...You expect him to just show up here and you don’t even know what you’re going to talk about?” Anise’s eyes dropped as she looks back at Sync, who immediately looked back at her with wide eyes.

“...Is that bad?”

“I just think you should know what you’re going to say!” Her fingers twitched, resisting the urge to grab him by the shoulders at this point. “Are you going to confess to him?

“Why would I do that? It’s not like there’s any point—”

“I think Guy deserves some honesty from you! You’re not the only one being affected by all of this, he’s probably just as confused as you are if you two haven’t even talked about where you stand with one another!” Anise spoke with such intensity that Sync nearly moves back from her as she raises her voice at him. He only blinks back at her.

“He really hasn’t said anything?”

“Not a word. He’s just insanely out of it.” As she cupped her hands in her face, she sighed whimsically. “It must be so hard to deal with all of the emotions of falling in love with the enemy.”

“That’s — we’re not like that at all.”

“But you want to be, right?”

“...Like you said, we’re enemies. And Van would—”

“Who cares about what Van thinks! Guy would protect you from him if it came down to it!” There’s a twinkle in her eye and even Sync is incapable of wondering if she’s just trying to get something out of him or if she’s genuinely concerned. She’s on the verge of nearly rooting for him. 

“...It’s not that easy.”

Anise leaned over, completely in the boy’s space as she stared him down without saying a word. Sync meant to glance over at her, but when he saw her brown eyes staring at him with such passion, he couldn’t help but stare back her, his wide eyes drooping slightly.

“What are you—”

Suddenly, she grabbed his cheek, pulling at the warm flesh. “Stop making excuses and just talk to him!”

“H-hey, stop that!”

“Not until you just — hey!” In attempt to coax her out of touching her, he had grabbed one of her pigtails, pulling on the bundle of hair. 

“Stay out of this! It’s none of your business!”

“You _made_  it my business with those lovey dovey eyes!”

“What are you _talking_  about?!”

"You know exactly what I’m—”

“...Anise?”

There was a new voice between them that halted their conversation as both of them glanced over to where it came from. Both of their eyes widened at that moment. 

Guy stood there, the jacket from earlier still atop his shoulders while snow continued to build up on top of it. His breathing was ragged, puffs of air spilling from his mouth as if he had been running the whole way to where they were now. Even with the soft hue of pink in his face, his blue eyes looked dull and his brows furrowed slightly. He hadn’t been wearing the grin Sync was accustomed to seeing — and it almost worried him.  
  
“What are you doing here…?”


	7. Chapter 7

“…What are you doing here?”

The words came slowly from Guy’s mouth, eyes caught between Anise and Sync with their hands held onto one another strangely. Not at all in an inappropriate manner, it was clear that they weren’t getting along. But not in the way enemies were expected to, but almost like siblings. And even though he didn’t make it clear with his tone with who he was speaking to, his eyes veered towards Anise, unaware that her and Sync were close enough to not only talk in public, but for them to argue like they were —

— friends?

They were frozen in place, both of them mirroring one another with their wide eyes and gaping mouths. He didn’t realize they were so close, he wanted to say. Perhaps, Guy mused, that the one Sync really was focused on was Anise. Although it was minimal, a history was still between them. A replica of the Fon Master; she may have been drawn to him. Even then, Sync looked relaxed enough with her to allow her to pull and pinch at his cheeks without completely pushing her away. As he walked up to them, he didn’t notice any signs of Sync mimicking the voice of Ion as well. Odd.

Her hands dropped from his face as soon as he put those thoughts into consideration, Sync’s hand leaving the bundle of her hair to fall back against his shoulders. 

Anise sat up immediately, dusting off the snow that had begun to pile on her lap, her voice chirping as she slapped her palms together to intertwine the tips of her fingers right below her chin. Even though her smile beamed, he noticed a faint twitch in her eyes. “Guy! You’re here!”

Guy cocked a brow at her as he watched her act as if he _shouldn’t_ have been suspicious of anything going on between them. “I am. But why are you here?”

“Oh, you know!” He didn’t think her smile could get any more broad but she managed to stretch it further. “I was so mad for what Sync did to Natalia earlier so I came to yell at him!” 

Guy blinked, brows falling as his lips tightened. He glanced at Sync, who stared up at Anise with what he imagined was the same expression that was on his own face. He looked back at her while she continued to hold her pose like a mannequin. “…Is that so?”

“Yup, yup! But it seems you’re here to finish the job so maybe I should just leave you two be!” Anise looked back and forth between the two males twice before she began to walk towards Guy.

“I’m sure if you scold him, it will definitely make him think about what he’s done.” She looked back at Sync and then back at the blond, winking at the older male before skipping past him. His eyes followed her, his brows still raised high above his eyes. 

“What does that even—“

“Bye bye!” Anise waved off at them, her skip turning into a full run as she darted around the corner of a building and was immediately out of view.

Guy watched the spot from where she disappeared from for a few moments, expecting to see one of her pigtails pop out from the corner. But as he waited, nothing appeared and he sighed, turning back towards the younger male who only continued to hold his mouth open. Moments after he looked to Sync, the boy’s eyes were already drifting back to Guy and his mouth closed, looking tense once more.

Guy thought it was hard to talk to Sync before, but now he was truly at a loss for words. 

Nevertheless, he walked up to the bench, standing beside him. Sync’s hands moved from his lap to around his arms, sustaining his stare up at the swordsman for seconds before he turned his face away.

“So, Anise was scolding you, huh?” Guy grinned. Despite Anise’s _almost_  convincing show, he wondered if Sync expected him to believe a story like that. 

Sync kept his lips pursed together as he nodded, refusing to look up at Guy.

Guy glanced over Sync’s attire; parts of his skin were exposed and he noticed the bumps on his skin each time a breeze blew past them. His hands trembled as he clenched tightly onto himself, the creases in his fabric looked as if they might rip. His skin looked more pale than usual, save for his cheeks and especially his nose, which were radiant in red hues, a contrast to the rest of him.

‘ _He’s been here a while._ ’

“Hey, you look freezing. Here— ” Guy began to slip the jacket off his shoulders, immediately throwing it over the boy’s frame. Sync froze in place as the fabric covered over him and although the shivering hadn’t immediately ceased, he finally looked up at Guy with glassy, green eyes. 

“That should warm you up for now.” Guy pat his shoulders as he took a seat next to him, noticing the bench wasn’t too cold to the touch. Keeping his limbs close together, he knew he wasn’t immune to snowy weather at all, but Sync’s shaken exterior simply needed it more.

Sync looked at him, eyes wide and his breathing heavy as warm clouds came from his lips. “T-thanks…” He mumbled. He pulled the jacket in closer, the fabric just barely grazing his nose. 

“Of course.” 

There was silence between them but the city continued to drone on. The faint howl of the wind blew against Guy’s ears, the bustling from the windows of the buildings in front of them blending in as well. It’s wasn’t strange to him though, he enjoyed listening to the calming hum of the city. Still, he found himself counting the seconds of how long it would take Sync to say anything to him first. After all, he had been the one to initiate this. 

To say that Sync was the only one who wanted to talk, though, was an understatement. 

Seconds turned to minutes, and like most times, Guy allowed himself to start first:

“So, you—“ “You got my—“

They both looked at each other as their voices collide, mouths hanging open awkwardly.

“Wait, what were you going to say?” Sync started, his voice shaky.

“No, no. You go first.” Guy insisted, not noticing the way he leaned in to listen to him.

“O-oh, okay…” Sync softly cleared his throat, and even though he spoke up, he repeated the action of opening and closing his mouth a few more times before he finally spoke once more. “It looks like you got my note. I didn’t know if you’d be able to understand it.”

Guy felt his cheeks lifting. He had wondered if Sync was going to bring it up at all. “No, it was pretty self-explanatory.”

Sync’s head rose up as he stared off in the distance in front of him. “I-I didn’t have time to figure out a place or a time. I was worried you wouldn’t have been able to find me. This city isn’t exactly the smallest.” 

It hadn’t been the easiest task to find Sync, but as soon as he had the moment to read what Sync had slipped into his hands hours ago, he had been determined to find him. He was impressed (and flattered) that Sync would go to such lengths as giving him a note (although discreetly) in front of his friends. He respected it though, reading over the note in his room when he was alone and finding a moment where he could slip off, claiming he wanted to see the sights before they left again. It helped everyone else was tired of being in the cold at that point.

His grin didn’t leave his face as he leaned in more, attempting to catch sight of Sync’s expression. “You were that concerned with seeing me?”

Sync blinked before his eyes widened again as he glanced at the swordsman, his cheeks burning feverishly at the implication. Guy held back his need to chuckle, finding it oddly endearing. He waited for the backlash that would prove him wrong, about how Sync didn’t care _t_ _hat_  much. Instead, he kept his eyes focused on Guy, although the urge to turn his vision away from him is evident. 

He nodded.

Guy’s smile faltered for a second as his heart tremendously leapt in his chest. Even after that, he felt traces of flutters in his stomach. He blinked several times before his smile was beaming back on his mouth, his own face beginning to redden.

“I’m glad.” He wanted to say more, he _felt_  like he should have said more.

Sync stared back at his lap, kicking some snow with his feet as he began again, “I…wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Where...do we stand with one another?”

Guy’s head instinctively tilted at the question, and Sync must have noticed. He continued on, “What I mean is, are we enemies? Allies?” Sync looked like he was resisting the need to bite his lip. “Or…are we friends? I just want to hear it from you. If you want don’t want to be anything but enemies then I’ll let you be and we’ll continue on—”

“You really don’t remember this conversation, do you?” Even with his smile, his brows shifted slightly. He couldn’t help but chuckle this time, leaving Sync to stare at him with narrowed eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Last time we met in Daath, after you asked me to stay, I told you about how I hoped we could be friends.” Tilting his head back, he let his body relax against the bench, crossing his arms over his chest. “I guess you were more interested in falling asleep to my voice instead of listening to it though.”

“I-I didn’t mean it! You’re the one who said you made that remedy stronger than usual!” Sync shook his head, pulling the jacket tighter around his shoulders. “I…kind of remember that though. I just figured it was a dream.”

“It’s okay. I think I got enough satisfaction knowing you could sleep so easily with me there. I think that’s a clear indication that we could be friends if you don’t find me a threat anymore.” Guy turned his head towards him, laughing as he immediately wondered if he should have retracted the statement. “Not that you’re not completely capable of beating me to a pulp though. You’ve certainly done it before.”

Guy always wondered what kind of reaction he’d get from Sync as soon as he was ever done talking. It always seemed to be something different, but so like him. This time, however, he didn’t expect a soft chuckle to escape from Sync’s mouth. It made Guy consider whether or not he heard him correctly. His mouth held open, staring at him. 

Did _he_  make Sync — _Sync the Tempest_  —  laugh? 

It wasn’t so much odd as it was like a gentle melody to his ears. He briefly imagined if any other people had ever had the pleasure of hearing him laugh like that; not out of spite, but out of actual joy.

Sync caught him staring, looking over at him like he was the odd one. “W-what? Is there something on my face?”

“Ah, no—“ Guy looked over Sync’s skin, noticing the hue on his cheeks hadn’t changed but the chilled bumps on his skin had ceased after some time. Snowflakes collected on his cheeks, some melting right away and other’s sticking to his skin. “Actually, yes.”

Leaning over, the blond raised his hand to brush against Sync’s cheeks, melting the snowflakes as soon as he touched them. Sync almost flinched at the touch but stood still, the clouds that came from his mouth before had halted. Sync closed his eyes slowly, his lashes fluttering over Guy’s gloves, leaving the man to wonder what they would feel like against his skin. As he pulled his hand away, Sync pulled back as well, his relaxed exterior turning rigid as he twisted away and cleared his throat.

“Do…do you hate the cold too?”

“Not really.” Guy’s hands fell back into his lap. “I definitely prefer warm weather, but I don’t get to see the snow too often. It’s lovely.” One of his brows raised, a look of teasing flickered in his eyes. “Speaking of which, what are you doing out here without a coat? You look like you needed that _much_  more than I did.”

“Ah, well…I figured I’d be spending most of my time in my room since my task was just to collect some reports here.” Sync rubbed his hands together, letting them fall into his lap again. “That was, until I ran into you.”

“Sorry,” Guy chuckled, joking. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you on your way to your room.”

“N-no, it’s fine. I…” Sync went still, a heavy breath leaving his mouth before he spoke again, “…I wanted to see you anyway.”

Guy relaxed his elbows against his knees, moving in closer to the Tempest. “You…really wanted to see me?”

Biting his lip, Sync began shaking his head. “Don’t misunderstand me, I meant so that we could talk! Don’t start thinking that I would just completely go out of my way to just…just to see you…”

“Of course.” Guy didn’t take any offense to the statement at all, finding the contradiction in his flushed face, or perhaps that was still from the cold. He noticed Sync rubbing his hands together _again_  before balling them into taut fists. 

An idea began to tempt him in his mind as he watched, mentally shrugging as he scooted closer to Sync. “…Hey, your hands look freezing.” Guy placed his hands in Sync’s lap, taking his hands and covering them with his own as he rubbed them. “I can feel how cold they are, even through my gloves.”

Slowly, he looked up from his hands and into Sync’s eyes, who was already staring back at him, captivated. His lips were parted, pink from the cold nipping at his skin. Gently, as the look in his ivy eyes began to soften, his fingers curled into Guy’s hands as he held onto him. 

It took Guy a moment to realize that their legs and shoulders had happened to meet as well.

“How…do you stay so warm?” Sync’s voice came out soft, the corners of his lips twitching.

“I’m not sure.” Guy’s heart leapt again as he began to notice the warmth harboring between them. “But we’re only here for a few days, I won’t have to worry about the cold much longer.”

“I see…”

Guy paused as he glanced at Sync, “You could come with us, if you’d like.”

Sync continued to look at him with wide eyes as he held onto his hands tighter. “T-there’s no way your friends would ever allow something like that.”

“I’ll vouch for you.” Guy stared at him in his eyes as his smile faltered, “I’m sure I could convince them to let you stay with us. You just have to want it.”

“After everything I’ve done, yeah. _Right_.” Sync rolled his eyes before he turned his head away. “I’ve used Ion’s voice against Anise before, and after what I did to that princess earlier…”

“Natalia?” Sync did have a point; his tactics in the past weren’t the most pleasant. Even Guy had to admit to himself that his insult from earlier had been cruel for her. “It’s a fresh wound for her. If you apologized and were sincere, I’m sure it wouldn’t take her long to accept you. She’s a forgiving person.”

“What about what I did to you? I used your own memories against you. I made you attack that other replica. Isn’t he _family_  to you?”

“I’ve already told you how I feel about that.” Guy recollected their first time interacting civilly, how Sync had mocked him for helping him after he had been cruel to him. Back then, there was no remorse when he mentioned the curse slot. But now, he could hear the strain in his voice just by bringing it up, silently asking him for forgiveness. 

Sync clenched his teeth together, eyes darting around, as if looking for reasons for Guy to be against him. “How…how can you be so forgiving about something like that?”

“I believe that people can change. I believe that _you’ve_  changed, Sync. And maybe you don’t believe that, but it’s not the worse thing.” Guy spoke quickly, hoping to keep Sync from telling him any more excuses or thinking he was undermining him.

“We’ve met up all these times and each time, you’ve shown me that you’re capable of feeling emotions other than hatred. I know you hate the Score but without it, you would have never lived and I…I never would have had a chance to meet up with you like this.”

Just as Guy thought he had caught a glimpse of Sync’s eyes glossing over, he tore his eyes away from him again. “Is…is this some trick so that you can have one more member on your team to take down Van? You can just be honest—“

Guy held their hands tighter together, maneuvering his body so he could catch a glimpse of Sync’s face, unaware of how close their faces were to touching. “I would _never_  do that to you. I don’t see you as someone who will help us against Van, I see you as a friend.”

Aside from the heavy sigh that passed his lips, his shoulders easing down, Sync was silent.

“ _S_ _ync_.”

“I can’t—“ Facing him, Sync stared down at their hands. “…for now, at least. I need more time.”

Although his answer didn’t satisfy Guy completely, he smiled nonetheless. There was still progress. He was considering it, and that was enough for him right now. “I understand. But… let me know if you decide differently, okay?”

“I…I’ll let you know.” Sync sighed again, his vision trailing towards the sky as more snowflakes freckled over his pale skin. 

Following his example, Guy took his sight to the sky as well. The street lights shined in his eyes, making the sky look ebony and if he focused on it long enough, he could make out clusters of stars. He noticed the snow was coming down heavier than before and he glanced to the streets, noticing that their footsteps from before were almost filled entirely with new snow. 

Guy felt his first wave of shivers. “…It’s getting dark out.”

“You should go back to your friends.” Sync said simply, his hand twitching in their palms.

Guy felt the nudge, looking down at their hands to notice that they were still holding one another. A blush crept onto his cheeks, realizing he had kept his hands longer than he intended. As he glanced at Sync, he noticed he was also staring at their hands, and as he made the slightest bit of eye contact with Guy, he pulled his hands away and back into the coat.

Looking over his red face, Guy wondered if his was just as bad. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, s-sorry about that.”

“It’s…it’s okay. You were warm.” Sync rubbed his nose, holding his hand against his face a few moments longer than necessary before he stood to his feet.

Guy did the same, brushing off the coating of snow over his shoulders and arms. he could already feel the wetness soaking into the fabrics. “Do you want me to walk you back to the inn?”

“Oh, uh…no. That won’t be necessary.” Sync pulled the jacket closer to him once more before pulling it off his shoulders entirely. “Mine is…across the town anyway.”

“Oh, I thought I saw you walking towards the one we were staying at?” Guy asked, recalling how they had met in front of the mutual inn. Guy just assumed he had taken a different way in. Before he could ask about it, the coat was stuffed back into Guy’s arms. “Oh, you don’t want this? I thought you got cold easily.”

“It’s fine. I don’t want your friends wondering what you ran off to do that it required you to give up your coat.” Sync crossed his arms across his chest, “And I don’t want Anise to give you a hard time either.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Guy chuckled, the memory of Anise interrogating him weeks ago still fresh in his mind. He could only wonder what she’d come up with after this. He pulled the jacket over his shoulders, instant gratification hit him as it shielded him from the breeze, which was becoming more harsh. “Just make sure you get to the inn safely, okay?”

“You’re underestimating me again.” Sync said plainly.

“Ah, sorry about that. Then I’m sure you’ve got it all under control.” Guy scratched his head, smiling widely. 

“Now you’re starting to get to know me.” The corners of Sync’s lips rose slightly, a soft gleam in his eyes that Guy wished he could have kept staring at. With that, Sync turned to leave, his footsteps crunching down into the snowy roads.

“I would hope so.” Guy still faced him, watching his small steps before calling out to him again, “Hey, Sync?”

Sync stopped, looking back at him. “Hm?”

“If it means anything, _I_ _’d_  want you to join us.” Guy’s smile softened, “I hope we can continue like this.”

Sync stared at him briefly, turning away as he continued walking. “I’ll give you an answer next time we meet.”

“Until next time then.” Guy said softly, wondering if Sync could hear him, although the boy continued to walk until he too turned the corner of a building and was out of sight in moments.

Guy sighed heavily, looking up at the sky once more before turning his heels so that he too could get back to his warm quarters. The fabrics of his shirt were wet from the snow that piled up on him throughout their talk. He realized his pants hadn’t been meant for climates like this, feeling the wind cut against his legs.   
  
Even as he stuck his hands in his pockets, the warm enveloping his hands, he found it was nothing compared to the heat of Sync’s hands held tight against his own. 


End file.
